


The Good, The Bad and The Angel

by shellygurumi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Western, Angel Dean Winchester, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2013, Human Castiel, Hunter Castiel, M/M, Trains, reverse!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:12:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellygurumi/pseuds/shellygurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In January of 1862, Castiel died alongside Samuel Colt, trying to close the Devil's Gate in Sunrise, Wyoming. Only, he wasn't supposed to die. An Angel, Dean, rescued him from Hell and brought him back to Earth to finish his mission. Now, the Devil's Gate must be closed in order to prevent a grave disaster 150 years in the future. The demon, Alastair, however, will do anything to stop this from happening. Will the good guy be able to stop the bad guy with the help of the angel? Time will tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are SO many people to thank that I'm worried I'd forget someone. But here's my best list of great big thank yous for beta work, encouragement, and being someone to bounce ideas off: [Mary](http://colonialdncr.tumblr.com), [Karu](http://happyfunballxd.tumblr.com), [Alex](http://cassaysbiteme.tumblr.com), [Aga](http://casdasgay.tumblr.com), [Em](http://ashesinyourhair.tumblr.com), [Diana](http://mixofmusicandcosplay.tumblr.com), [Bas](http://basimah.tumblr.com), omg every one of my followers. And the biggest possible thank you to my amazingly awesome and talented artist! Alejandra ([bringmehsomepie](http://bringmehsomepie.tumblr.com) / [usarechan](http://usarechan.tumblr.com)) ilu <3

Castiel trudged across the dusty roads, his throat raw, his clothes, hair and face covered in dirt. He had walked a mile and still had a mile to go before reaching his home on the outskirts of town. Whether or not it would still be standing when he got there, was anyone’s guess. The last thing Castiel remembered was fighting beside his partner, Samuel Colt, and losing. That was in January, it had to be mid-summer by now. There was no way of knowing if he had been gone for a few months or if it had been years.

Gone. That was one way of putting it.

 _Dead_ would be another. Waking up in a wooden box six underground was a pretty good sign that he had died in that fight against the demon Alastair. But if he died, why was he here now? Hopefully there would be some answers in town, assuming they didn’t shoot him on the spot for being a dead man walking. He decided to go visit Harvelle’s gun shop after getting washed up at home, maybe they would have some insight.

His home was still standing, though his horse was missing from the hitching post. Inside, all his furniture was covered in a layer of dust, which wasn’t unlike the state he would find it in after being gone for several months. All of his belongings remained, so far as he could tell. Cas shrugged out of his duster and hung it on the coat hook just inside the door. The first thing he checked was the mattress, pulling the blankets aside lifting it up. There was a hole in the bottom of it and, sure enough, his store of money remained inside it. Whatever happened, no one had turned over his house. Perhaps word hadn’t gotten around that he died.

Dropping the mattress back into place, Castiel pulled some fresh clothes out of his wardrobe and laid them out on the bed. He stripped down to his underwear and grabbed the wash basin from a shelf in his room. Outside, he rinsed out the dirt from his hair at the water pump, filled his wash basin with clean water, and returned inside to wash up and get dressed in the clean clothes. With a sigh, Cas turned to the small, burnished mirror hung on the wall in his bedroom. It wasn’t a very clear reflection, but he could see his face well enough and for having just dug his way out of a grave, he was surprised to find that he looked half decent.

What surprised him more was the fact that he was missing a couple scars. One on his neck from where a blade was once held to his throat, one beside his left temple. Cas found another scar from a bullet graze missing from his forearm. Further up his arm, though, was something that looked like a burn which hadn’t been there before he died. Angling his body to get a better view in the mirror, Castiel inspected his arm and found a full handprint burned into the skin of his shoulder.

“What in the hell...?” He ran his fingertips over the shiny, raised skin. It felt like a burn but didn’t hurt and all he could wonder was who the hell branded him like some kind of steer after removing all his other scars. More importantly, what could do that? He needed answers quick. After getting dressed and putting his duster back on, he turned toward town. A horse would be useful right about now.

With determination in his stride, Castiel arrived in town no more than half an hour later. The sun rose high in the sky, nearing noon. He had no idea what day of the week it was, and folk weren’t out in the streets, so he made way straight for the gun shop. Ellen Harvelle had owned the shop since he came to town. It used to belong to her husband, William, before he died. William had been a hunter, too; Castiel knew of him from word of mouth and Samuel always said William was a good guy and that they could trust Ellen. Over the years, she and her daughter Jo had been a big help to them.

 

* * *

 

Jo was a spitfire who always wanted to follow in her daddy’s footsteps, much to Ellen’s dismay. She had gone along with Samuel and Cas on hunts once or twice, and Ellen threatened to shoot the both of them if anything happened to her little girl. They believed her, too. When Cas walked into the shop, it was Jo that was sitting behind the counter, cleaning a pistol.

“Be right with ya’,” she said before looking up. Her sweet brown eyes went wide when she finally did look to see who walked in. Her voice was whisper soft, “Cas?”

“So it would appear,” he said, moving toward the counter.

“Mama!” She shouted, back over her shoulder, not taking her eyes from Cas. Her hand went straight for the bottle of holy water she kept under the counter.

Ellen appeared a moment later, took one look at Castiel and instantly pulled a revolver from the back counter, pointing it towards him, “What the hell are you?” She took stock of where her daughter was, where he was and what was between them with a quick glance.

Castiel held both hands up in defense and stopped moving forward, “Human, as far as I can tell.” Slowly and deliberately, he pulled one arm free of his coat and rolled up the sleeve, offering his forearm to Jo. “Test me, if you wish.”

The holy water was tossed on his skin, Jo’s eyes watching his arm intently to see if it would burn. When it didn’t, she grabbed a silver knife and edged forward. Ellen shadowed her movements, ready to respond incase Castiel tried anything. He remained perfectly still as she came within arm’s reach and slid the blade across his skin. Aside from a slight wince from the pain, he had no unnatural reaction to the silver.

With a shaky hand, Jo set the knife down on the counter and looked up at Castiel with eyes shining. “It’s really you.”

“It’s really me.”

“We buried you, boy. You and Samuel, both,” Ellen said, her voice angry. She had set the revolver down.

“He hasn’t shown up?”

“No, you’re the first dead man we seen today,” Jo shot back at him with sass in her voice. Castiel ignored the tone.

“How long ago?”

“About six months,” Ellen answered, handing over a cloth so Castiel could wipe the blood from his arm. “We didn’t tell anyone what happened.”

“Good. My house is still standing because of it. Though I think I lost my horse.”

“We got her in the stable, figured someone oughta take care-a her.” Jo supplied.

“You have my gratitude for that.” Cas nodded to her. He always could trust the Harvelles to take care of things in a quiet manner. “What happened to the Colt?”

“I’ve got it,” Ellen said. “Found it with you two when we came lookin’, figured it’d have been best to keep our hands on it. Cas, what happened back there?”

“Alastair got the better of us.” Considering he had died and come back to life, Cas thought they were all handling this pretty well. He figured Ellen and Jo did their grieving already and he was too busy trying to figure out what was going on to let emotions get in the way.

“Guess he must have... But how are you back on two feet and breathing again?”

“I wish I knew. Whoever... whatever did it, left a mark.” Castiel glanced towards the door and Jo, taking the cue, walked over and locked it. When she returned, Cas had pulled his duster off and unbuttoned his shirt. He showed them the handprint and both women’s eyes went wide.

“What in tarnation,” Ellen asked. They both leaned in to inspect it.

“Perhaps this is what gets left behind when you get brought back to the land of the living?”

“It looks like a hand,” Jo said.

“What has the power to do that?”

Castiel shook his head. “I have no idea. It’s possible Jim might.”

“Might be your best bet...” Ellen nodded and Castiel covered up his arm again.

“Does anyone else know I died?”

“Well... Pastor Jim does, he did a service for you. And Gabe, because he needed to know if you skipped town on him.”

“That’ll require some explaining.”

“We handled it pretty well, I’d like to point out,” Jo said, her lips turned up in a lopsided smirk.

“Hell, Gabe will probably just be glad to have you back watching over the saloon.” Ellen added.

“Has he had trouble since I’ve been gone?” Castiel raised a brow.

“The usual riff raff,” Ellen shrugged. “He hasn’t replaced you yet. I think he liked you.”

“I suppose I will have to make an appearance...” He smiled. Cas had enforced order in the saloon whenever local rabble or cowboys passing through decided to cause problems. In exchange, Gabe pointed people towards Castiel whenever they were looking to hire a gunslinger and he was low on cash. Hunting demons and ghosts didn’t pay too well on its own and he had always been a quick draw.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face,” Jo laughed.

“You just might get to... Might need someone trustworthy to tell him I’m real.”

 

* * *

 

Ellen held the fort at the gun shop while Jo and Castiel made way toward the Mystery Spot Saloon. Being noontime, the place only had a handful of people in it. Jo walked in first, followed by Cas. Women didn’t spend too much time in the saloon unless they were the whores working there, but Jo wasn’t your average lady. She refused to wear dresses, choosing breeches and men’s shirts instead. No one could tell her otherwise, not even her mama.

A couple men glanced her way when she walked in, scoffed and muttered, spit a wad of tobacco into the spittoon and looked back to their drinks and their card games. No one was playing the piano yet and the saloon was mostly quiet. Gabriel looked over and smiled at Jo, then froze when he saw Castiel. While Gabe was vaguely aware of otherworldly things and the fact that Cas dealt with them, this was well outside his realm of comfort.

He cod-mouthed for a moment, staring at Castiel with no words. Jo walked right up to the bar and took a seat on a stool, crossing her arms over the counter and smiling at him. Cas followed and stood beside her.

“He’s real.” Jo said, still grinning at Gabe’s reaction.

“Cas, they told me you...” He started, then quieted, glancing around.

“I was. Seems I’m not now.” Castiel nodded to him.

“Glad to see you’re all casual about it.” Gabriel quipped, eyes still wide with shock.

“In my line of work...?” Castiel shrugged, though he was quietly amused by the way he and Jo made Gabriel feel like the one behaving oddly here.

“Oh, of course. It was just like a long nap for you, right?”

“Somethin’ like that. Got some beauty rest, all my scars are gone.”

Jo looked over at him when he mentioned that one but didn’t ask.

“This might be going a bit far for me this time,” Gabriel shook his head. He grabbed a shot glass and a bottle from beneath the counter. “I need a drink.”

“Might as well make it a round,” Jo said, quirking her half smirk again. “In celebration.”

“Guess I won’t need to find a new gunslinger to keep the peace for me.” He poured three shots of whiskey and they all drank.

“Suppose not.” Cas slid his empty glass back towards Gabe. “Just stopped in to say howdy, let you know I’m back. I need to go have a word with Jim.”

“Yeah, I could see how you might wanna go see a Preacher ‘bout comin’ back from the dead,” Gabriel mused under his breath.

“Preachers are the one with the answers, right?”

Gabriel scoffed.

 

* * *

 

When they left the saloon, Jo moseyed back over to the gun shop and Castiel walked to the church alone. No one in town gave him much notice, except to give him space as they had always done. Townsfolk often tried to stay out of the way of gunslingers as a general rule. The church was only a few roads up and blessedly empty when he walked in. It was a beautiful building, probably the prettiest in town, with a bell tower and everything. Pastor Jim always kept a dais of holy water near the entryway, which Castiel and Samuel had found useful on more than one occasion. He smiled sadly as he walked past it, remembering that his partner was gone now.

The sound of Castiel’s boots on the wooden floor must have alerted Jim to his presence, as the preacher soon came out into the main area of the church. The movement caught Castiel’s eye and he looked up just in time to see Jim stop dead in his tracks, eyes going wide. He reached for an iron cross and stormed towards Castiel with the intent to dispel him.

“Be gone from this holy place, spectre!”

“I’m not a ghost.” Castiel said easily, standing still as Jim approached him.

Jim swung the cross towards Castiel, but the hunter stopped him, grabbing his arm at the wrist and stepping forward. He was a good several inches taller than the preacher and stronger, too, but Cas would never intentionally hurt the man, only stop him.

“I’m not a ghost, Jim.” He said again, looking into the pastor’s eyes.

There was a moment of hesitation before Jim slowly lowered his arm and stepped back, still clutching the cross. “How can that be...?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. But I woke up in a grave where you and the Harvelles buried me and I need answers.”

“As I would imagine...” He looked Castiel up and down, walking a slow circle around him. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Are you entirely as... you remember yourself?”

“Am I whole? Yes, better than. It’s as if I have a whole new body, every knife scar and bullet hole is gone.”

“Curious. Have you got any memories of the other side?”

Castiel swallowed and hesitated, then cleared his throat as he shook his head. “No. None. I just remember fighting beside Samuel, Alastair cut him down, then me, and everything went black. Next thing I knew I was waking up in a box.”

Jim studied Castiel for a long moment, then nodded, frowning. It was only natural for a church man to want to know if there was an afterlife. “Well, is there anything else you can tell me about your ordeal?”

“Yes, there’s one more thing.” He shrugged out of his coat and laid it over the back of a pew. Once again, he showed off the strange handprint burn on his shoulder. “I reckon that whatever pulled me free... it left this behind.”

The preacher’s eyes went wide as he leaned in and ran his fingers gingerly over the burn. “Does it hurt?”

“Tingles a bit. Ever see anything like this?”

“Never in person... However...” Jim’s eyes lit up like he remembered something, then pulled back. He hurried to a storage room where he kept all his holy texts. Castiel waited and fixed his shirt. Just as he was about to go after Jim, the preacher came back. “There is this...”

Castiel met him halfway and Jim flipped open the book to a marked page. It was an old illustration like something out of Renaissance times or whatever was a long time ago in England. History wasn’t exactly Castiel’s strong point. A man was laid out on the ground, wearing just a sash of some sort around his nether region, one arm stretched out to the clouds. There was a handprint on his arm, just like Cas’s, and from above, another man with fluffy white wings reached down, his hand just a little bit away from the first man’s arm.

“What’re you implying, Preacher?” Castiel looked up at Jim with narrowed eyes.

“An angel.”

“An angel,” Cas repeated, not sure he believed it.

“That’s the best I’ve got.”

“Demons, I know; ghosts, monsters, creatures that walk like men and then turn into beasts when the moon is full. Angels, though? Why haven’t we seen them before now?”

“They are soldiers of the Lord, suppose they didn’t have enough reason to show themselves.”

“Things I’ve seen, I could name a reason or two.” Castiel chuckled, shaking his head.

“Why send angels to deal with matters that humans have been able to take care of just fine?” Jim gestured to Castiel.

“Alright, supposin’ that were true, why would an angel come down now to pull me out of -- to bring me back to life? And why just me? Why not Colt?”

Jim was quiet for a spell. “Maybe God has a plan for you.”

Castiel raised a brow at him.

“I can’t speak for God or his angels, Castiel. Maybe you should try to find the angel, or whatever else it may be, that saved you.”

“How am I supposed to find an angel?” Castiel asked.

“I reckon we start looking up every summoning spell we can.” The preacher smiled at Cas as if this was the most obvious thing under the sun.

The hunter huffed out a breath and stalked towards the back room where Jim kept all his old books. Reading was slow work for Castiel, who never had proper schooling after about age 10. Colt, who had gone to military academy, and Jim, who studied a lot while going to preacher training, or whatever they called it, both helped him with his reading. Cas was a smart man, though; he knew how to do all the things a demon-hunting, gunslinging, man-for-hire needed to know. There just hadn’t been a lot of options for him growing up on the frontier, when staying alive was the main concern every day.

 

* * *

 

Two hours had gone by before Jim and Castiel filled a few sheets of paper with as many summoning spells and protecting sigils as they could find. Closing a book he had just exhausted, Castiel sat back in his chair and sighed.

Jim looked up at him but didn’t say a word. He waited for Cas to speak first.

“Samuel should be here.”

“Samuel is at rest, his soul is at peace.” Jim said quietly and Castiel wondered if it was true. Where had Samuel’s soul gone when he died that day?

“He knew all this better than you and me combined.” He peered out a window. “I want him there with me when we meet this thing.”

“It’s no longer his job now, just ours. You lost a dear friend and mentor; it will take time to adjust to that. But you must, Castiel.”

Castiel felt better having Samuel at his side, but there wasn’t much to be done about that now. Jim was right. He nodded to the preacher, “I will.”

“When will you try to summon it?”

“Soon as everything is ready, tomorrow night, maybe, or the next day. What’s today?”

“Tuesday, 17th of June.” Jim said, then added, “1862. You and Samuel died on the 10th of January.”

Castiel sighed and shook his head.

“You should be sure to get some rest tonight. And eat a good meal. It’s nearing supper time. Head on down to Gabriel’s saloon, he’ll be sure to fix you up something to eat.”

“In exchange for my glaring at anyone who thinks to start a ruckus.” Cas quirked a smile and stood.

“It’s what they call a symbiotic relationship,” Jim laughed.

“That so?”

“Mm-hmm! Now go on, git. Can’t fight evil on an empty belly.” Jim stood and reached out to shake Castiel’s hand. Then he pulled the hunter into a fierce hug. At a loss of what else to do, Castiel returned the embrace. “It’s good to have you back, son.”

“Thanks.” Cas gave him a pat on the back then extricated himself from Jim’s hold. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

The Mystery Spot had livened up since Castiel came in earlier. A man was playing the piano, Gabe was sliding drinks to townsfolk and men were seated at the tables, drinking, playing poker and flirting with the whores. All guns were checked at the door, by house rules, and only those keeping order or law enforcement were allowed to carry a gun inside. No one stopped Cas when he walked in, though he was wearing an ivory handled colt revolver on his hip. Being friends with Samuel Colt meant the only revolver Castiel would carry was one of his design. And when it came to rifles, he favored a Winchester.

As he walked by the bar, Cas tipped his hat to Gabe.

“How’s the Preacher?” Gabe asked, leaning an elbow at the counter.

“Says you oughta make me supper.”

“Been awhile since you ate, I reckon. Want me to fix you up with one of my gal’s, too?” Gabe wiggled his eyebrows.

“Just the meal, please.”

He made his way to a table where he always sat. Cas liked it because he could keep his back to the wall so no one could sneak up on him and he could still see everyone in the saloon. It was close to the stairs, too, so if one of the girls screamed on account of a man mistreating her, he could get up there quickly. All in all, the Mystery Spot was a fairly calm place, but being one of the more popular saloons in town, it drew all walks of life.

Gabe brought over a short glass of whiskey for Cas to sip while he waited for his food and Cas sat watching over the room. Several people recognized him and either stayed out of the way or nodded in greeting, offering a “Howdy?” Cas only nodded in return to each of them.

The meal, when it came, was quite a treat, as Gabe had given him some dried pork along with his vegetables and beans. Cas figured the man must really be glad to have him back, as any meats were too valuable to give away for free. The night was passing by quietly, which gave Cas the time to think about everything he had just been through. More and more he wished Samuel was around to talk to about it all.

Samuel was a straightforward man that didn’t question too many things, while Castiel wondered why things happened or where demons and monsters came from. “Philosophical” is what Samuel called him. What was the philosophy of coming back to life? That which was dead was supposed to stay dead and anything that came back, well, usually those things answered to hunters like him. He vaguely hoped no one had heard of his death just yet. Wouldn’t do for hunters to come after him, wondering why he was alive.

Maybe that was too much to ask for, though, because just as Castiel finished his meal and pushed the plate forward to be taken away, a man strolled up to his table. He wasn’t familiar and judging by his traveling clothes, Cas assumed he wasn’t from around here. The man grabbed one of the chairs and spun it around, straddling it as he sat down. He slowly removed his hat and set it on Cas’s table.

Castiel glanced from the hat to the man and raised a brow, “Can I help you?”

“Well if it isn’t Castiel,” The man said, lips turned up in a sinister grin.

Cas narrowed his eyes and leaned back, setting his hands on his legs, where his gun was within easy reach. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

“Oh, but we have,” He tipped his head, still grinning and blinked his eyes once. When lids lifted, Castiel’s gaze was met with pure-black eyes. “Hell and back, huh? Ain’t you lucky.”

“Must be,” Cas knew his gun would be useless against a demon and shooting one in public would only rile the folks around them.

“So what is it, makes you so special?” He tipped his head the other way and studied Cas.

“Don’t know. I had nothin’ to do with it.” Cas kept his voice low.

“Right, I’m sure you and your hunter buddies are all in a quandary.”

“Matter of fact, I don’t know who pulled me out and if you go near any of my friends, I’ll be sure you find yourself back in hell.”

“Best mind your tone or I’ll be the one sendin’ you back downstairs.”

“No, you won’t,” Cas shook his head, matter-of-factly.

“Ya’ think so?”

“I know.” He leaned forward across the table towards the demon and met it’s black stare. “Because if you were going to, you would have already. You don’t know how I got out, either, and you want answers. Whatever it was, I think it’s got all of you scared, ‘cause it wants me out and it’s a hell of alot stronger than you. So you try it, but don’t be surprised when they come lookin’ for you next.”

The demon glared at Cas for a long moment, but didn’t try anything.

“How about you leave my table now.”

With a grumble, the demon stood, still glaring and backed away from Castiel. He was slow about his movements and didn’t seem inclined to turn his back on the hunter. He only turned when he slipped into the crowd and then left the saloon.

Without giving himself away, Castiel sighed and relaxed back into his chair. He grabbed the glass of whiskey and downed what was left in it, signalling to Gabe he was ready for a refill. It had been one long day, and the days weren’t looking to get any shorter any time soon. He needed to find out who pulled him back up to Earth, if it was an angel, and why it had done so. The last thing Castiel wanted was to be indebted something supernatural that had “plans” for him.

 

* * *

 

That night, Castiel went home and hung his duster on its usual hook on the wall. He unfastened the buttons on his shirt and slowly shrugged it off. Looking down at his arm, he saw the handprint there and lifted his hand to cover it. Closing his eyes, he remembered the place he was in, the place between the fight with Alastair and waking in a grave. He remembered hell. Black as pitch, chains and hooks, screams from every direction. Blood and unending pain: wounds made would close up as if they never existed, only to be cut open again, the pain made fresh.

He had been dead on earth for six months, but down in the pit it felt like much more. Day and night had no meaning, he couldn’t see the sun or the moon or stars in the sky, the only warmth he felt was from the fires of hell, which burned hotter than the sun on the hottest summer day in the desert. They burned red and yellow and blue, they smelled of soot and coal and fried human flesh. Castiel only recognized the smell because he had watched a house burn to the ground as a boy, and he remembered that acrid odour when the person who had died inside couldn’t be pulled out before the house collapsed. He couldn’t forget it then and would never forget it now. It was the first time in his life he had seen death, but it would not be the last.

The demons who tortured him brought up memories like that. They reminded him of his losses, torturing his mind as much as his body. He felt the pain of their knives, slicing off pieces of his skin just to hear him scream and he felt the pain of death, but not his own. Someone would whisper in his ear, the ways his parents died, his mother of a wasting sickness, his father shot to death for no good reason. They lied to him, saying that his sweet mother was here, in hell, and had been for many more years than he had been.

They would tell him how long he had spent here, that a year had passed, or that it had been a month, or ten years. It always changed and only added to his torment. The demons teased, saying he would be here for eternity, never to be released. He wept there, a fact of which he would not be ashamed. He wept because they said the torture would end finally, but only if he agreed to torture other souls, trapped down here like him. When he refused, they found the souls of the men he had killed, the bad ones, who had agreed easily to end their torment. These men had become demons and sought their revenge in their afterlife. No matter what became of him there, he refused to accept the offer to start torturing other souls. If he was in hell, it was for a reason and the guilt that weighed on him kept him in his place. If he was meant to be tortured for his sins, then he would not add to them by torturing anyone else.

It all ended one day -- or night, he couldn’t be sure. Castiel saw a light so bright in blinded him. Pain shot through his arm where the light touched him and it burned through his whole body, like something fearsome. His ears rang and everything that wasn’t the incomprehensible brightness vanished from his sight. Even with his eyes winced shut, he could still see the blaze, and he was being pulled, pulled up and out and Castiel thought, if he could die in Hell, this must be how it happened. But it didn’t matter to him now, because the torture would finally -- thankfully -- be over.

And that was when he woke in the grave, parched and aching and whole.

Castiel slowly pulled his hand from the burned mark on his shoulder and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“What are you...?” He asked to the emptiness of the room. Could it be that this thing was his savior? Was the demon who questioned him earlier that night afraid of whatever had the power to pull him out of hell? And was Jim right about it being an angel? If it was an angel who rescued him from hell, why? Why was he worth saving?

These questions and too many more flung themselves against the walls inside Castiel’s head. He pulled off his boots and belt and climbed into the bed. He was almost afraid to go to sleep, although the day had left him exhausted in more ways than one. What if he woke the next morning and found himself back in hell, this whole thing some sort of horrible twisted new form of torture. The thought was almost too much for Cas, and he shook his head against it. Closing his eyes, he did the only thing he could think of to calm himself enough to finally fall asleep.

He prayed.

“Our father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven...”

Eventually, sleep would find him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Cas woke to find himself still alive on Earth. He sent a prayer of thanks heavenward, then dressed and left his home. He split his time between doing research at Pastor Jim’s church and watching over the Mystery Spot. Ellen saw to it that Gabe forced meals on Cas every time he took a shift at the saloon and Jo helped out with the research. She wanted to be a hunter just like her daddy had been and was eager to help. Everyone was mighty curious to find out what exactly had the power to bring Cas back to the world of the living and doubly curious to find out why the thing had done it.

After a full day, they had several pages of sigils and summoning spells worked out that could hopefully bring the angel, if that’s what it was, to them. On Thursday, Cas spent the better part of the morning hunting out a good place for everything to go down. He found an abandoned shack a few miles outside of town where he set about drawing and painting everything they needed for the spells all over the walls. Summoning, warding, protection, anything Jim and Cas thought could be useful was put on the walls. Ellen brought the demon killing colt to him and that was already set in his holster. That gun wasn’t going anywhere out of his sights. It may not do much damage against an angel if things got hairy, but it might at least slow the thing down.

By nightfall, everything was ready. Jim rode out to meet him in the shack where they would perform the summoning. Just as he arrived, the sky was clouded over, obscuring the moon and stars, making for a dark night. They lit a few lanterns to set out on the only table in the room as the wind outside began to pick up.

“Great night to summon an angel,” Cas said quietly, looking out the small window. It had no glass, causing the wind to howl and whistle as it passed.

“Seems to be,” Jim flashed a smile at Cas and laid out the papers. He held them down with a rock to keep them from fluttering about, but the flames in the lanterns flashed and flickered wildly. “Let’s get this wagon rolling.”

They both read from the papers, lit candles, burned herbs and cast spells. All the while, the storm outside picked up, the door to the shack began swinging on its hinges and banging against the frame.

“Reckon that means it’s working?” Castiel asked, looking warily at Jim.

“Suppose.” He shrugged. Neither of them had done anything like this before, so it was hard to know what to expect. There wasn’t exactly a ton of lore on calling angels to earth. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance and was quickly followed by the loud boom of thunder. The walls of the small shack shook with the vibrations of it. Outside the horses whinnied uneasily.

“Best finish this up,” Cas said, turning back to the paper to read the final part of the last spell. As he spoke, the wind grew more violent, rain poured down from the sky in huge droplets that pelted the shack. The flames of the candles burned low and dim, a breath away from extinguishing. Everything went dark and still as the door to the shack slammed shut and the only noise was the harsh sound of rain against the roof.

Castiel and Jim looked at each other and the nerves were clear on their expressions. In the next strike of lightning and clap of thunder, the door flung open. The flames in the lanterns grew so tall the lids flung off and clattered to the ground. The wind howled again and the figure of a man could be seen in the doorway. He took a step forward and lightning stuck again.

He looked like any other man, which put Castiel off. The man, or angel, or demon, whatever he was, wore a black vest over a white shirt with all the buttons done up; he wore pants and boots and looked like someone who belonged in town. Jim and Castiel moved closer together and Cas pulled the Colt from his hip holster. He pulled back the hammer and ignored Jim’s sidelong glance. Heavy footfalls and flickering flames accompanied the man as he stalked towards them.

“Who are you?” Castiel asked, raising the Colt when the man was near enough, his finger on the trigger.

The man looked at the gun, smirked, and continued advancing. “I’m the one that pulled you out of hell.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Cas’s face was set in a frown and he pulled the trigger. The demon killing bullet sunk into the man’s chest, leaving a hole in his vest. He merely looked down at it, touched the torn fabric, then carried on towards Castiel.

Castiel retreated back to the table, where several weapons had been laid out, and grabbed the first one his hand touched. As he did so, Jim stepped forward between Cas and the man. He crossed himself and began to recite an exorcism. The man rolled his eyes and raised a hand towards Jim.

“Look, Cas, we need to talk. Alone.” As he said the final word, the man touched his first two fingers to Jim’s forehead and the priest fainted.

“Jim!” Castiel went to his knees at Jim’s side, holding up a stake coated in lambs blood and brandishing it at the offender.

“Don’t worry, the padre’s alive,” The man said, in a tone Cas assumed was meant to be reassuring.

“Who are you?” He glared up at the man.

“Name’s Dean.”

“What are you?”

“An angel of the Lord.”

Castiel stood slowly and faced Dean, this angel, completely. “You don’t exactly look like an angel.”

“What this?” Dean tugged at his vest and then shrugged. “This is a vessel.”

“A vessel?” Castiel was stricken. “You’re possessing someone? How is that better than a demon?”

“Look, he was a devout man, he prayed for this. It’s really not ideal, but humans can’t exactly handle my true form. I’m sure you’d prefer this to having your eyes burned out.”

Castiel conceded, remembering the blinding light in hell. He holstered the Colt and tossed the stake onto the table with a sigh. “So why exactly would an angel bother to rescue me from hell?”

Dean was taken aback. His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “What, you don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

“Why me?” Castiel gestured to himself, baffled at the thought.

“Because you still have work to do.”

“The Devil’s Gate?”

“You need to finish it.”

“Last time I tried that didn’t go over so well, and if you haven’t noticed I’m down a man.” Castiel leaned against the table.

“This time, you’ve got an angel on your side. You’ve got to do it.”

“It was Samuel’s plan, so why isn’t he here instead of me?”

“Samuel is at rest, his work is done, Cas.”

“So I get to be on Earth, safe, while he’s stuck in Hell? How is that fair?”

“Samuel Colt...” Dean took a breath. “He isn’t in Hell. He’s in Heaven.”

“I see...” Castiel nodded slowly, feeling the chill of the wind on the back of his neck as it howled through the broken window. “So you bring me back to finish Colt’s work, close the Devil’s Gate and lock up the hellmouth.”

“That’s the plan!” Dean gestured with his hand, pointing at Cas, and flashed a crooked grin. Castiel wasn’t sure he fully believed this, but the angel seemed confident. He worried what more the angel wasn’t saying.

“And if Alastair kills me again?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it and aim for keeping you alive to finish the job, instead.”  

“Why can’t the angels close the gate?”

“A human has to do it -- it’s this whole balance thing. Besides which, you know how Colt’s gate works, no one else does.”

“That still leaves Alastair.”

“Angel,” Dean gestured to himself.

From the ground, Jim groaned, waking from whatever Dean had done to make him pass out. Dean looked down to him then back to Cas. “He will probably need something for the headache. I suggest a stiff drink... Does the Father drink?”

“He does...” Jim grunted and lifted himself up.

“Well, I have to fly. Angel business. If you need me... Pray.”

“Pray?”

“Yeah, pray.” The sound of fluttering wings preceded another flash of lightning and clap of thunder and Dean was gone. Castiel stared at the place where he used to be. The storm calmed almost instantly.

“What was that all about?” Jim asked, turning to face Castiel.

The hunter pulled on his coat and stalked towards the door. “It seems I have work to do.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

The Devil’s Gate had been Samuel Colt’s greatest project. The demon killing gun, the churches, the railroad tracks, they had all been pieces of a much bigger puzzle. Pastor Jim’s church was one point of five churches, each connected by the iron tracks of a railroad. Together, they built one of the largest devil’s traps any hunter had ever made. It was definitely the largest Cas had ever heard of, let alone seen. At the center of the devil’s trap was a gate that Colt had built, a gate which could only be opened or closed with the use of the demon killing gun. Beneath the gate, the reason for its existence, was a doorway straight to hell.

Castiel and Samuel had been trying to see the project through to the end when Alastair intercepted them. One more railroad track had yet to be laid and it was no great surprise that mysterious occurrences were happening all around its construction. There were reports of railroad workers losing their minds while laying the tracks. A worker would just up and kill everyone else on the line and halt the progress. The more superstitious men would refuse to work on those lines, even at the cost of good pay.

The two hunters started patrolling the lines, putting down hex bags in the dirt and warding sigils where they would be innocuous to passers-by, but would keep demons away. To the more superstitious men, they would give silver necklaces with pendants that would keep them from being possessed -- Castiel and Samuel both wore one under their shirts at all times. All of these precautions worked, up until the showdown with Alastair, of course. Now Castiel had to ensure that the tracks were finished and lock the Gate for good.

At daybreak, Cas loaded up his saddlebags with hunting equipment, holstered Colt’s gun, threw on his duster and rode out to where the tracks were being constructed. It had been six months since he died and hopefully they had managed to lay down more tracks since he had been gone. Ellen and Jo had patrolled the tracks when they could, but they had a business of their own to run. They passed the word on to other hunters when they were given the chance, but folks had a tendency to keep to themselves, or keep quiet about supernatural things. Anyone who talked too much about ghosts and spirits was liable to spook the regular townsfolk and get run out of town.

When he arrived, Cas was pleased to find that most of the tracks had been laid, but there was still about thirty miles left unfinished. The wooden ties had already been set for the next section. With a good team, it could be finished in less than a week. A group of Irishmen were laying out rails and driving spikes into the baseplates, singing songs to keep in rhythm. Castiel walked his horse up beside them, keeping a casual distance away. They paid no heed to him and would carry on working until he asked for their attention. Rail workers had to be efficient and often took pride in how quickly they could lay track.

Everything seemed to be going just fine for now. Castiel turned his gaze out across the distance. The horizon was calm, the morning sun bright in the pale blue sky. If this held up, Samuel’s rail lines would be finished in a matter of days. Of course, the rail expanded past the church thirty miles up, but Samuel and Castiel were only concerned with this final section of it. Listening to the steady rhythm, Castiel considered his next move. Work on the Gate was complete, he only had to close it once the devil’s trap was closed.

Castiel heard something strange, then. The workers seemed to miss a beat and the song slowly stopped. He turned to look at them.

“Ay, Mick, what’re you doing?” One man asked, staring at the first man who had presumably stopped. “We’ve got work to do.”

The man, Mick, said nothing; he stared down at the rails. Castiel trotted his horse closer, “Everything alright here?”

A sinister grin slid across Mick’s face and he turned up to look at Cas. “Oh, I don’t think it is,” He said in an American accent, which had the other Irishmen confused.

“What are you doin’, Mick?” One of them pleaded, grabbing at his sleeve.

“Mick’s not home right now.” He caught the man’s hand in an iron grip, sending him to his knees, begging to be let go. Mick never looked away from Castiel and kept on grinning.

Cas slid off his horse and walked over to them, “You let that man go.”

“I’m not interested in him,” Mick pushed his fellow track worker aside and stepped towards Castiel. He blinked his eyes once and when the lids lifted, his eyes were demon black. “You aren’t going to finish these rails. I’m going to see to that.”

“Exorcizamus te,” Cas began chanting. “Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas--”

The demon growled at him and the other men scattered away, grabbing at the crucifixes they wore around their necks. Mick swung his arm and an unseen force knocked Castiel to the ground. He grunted as he hit the dirt, but carried on reciting.

“Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica! Ergo, draco maledicte.”

Mick screamed again and was trapped in his place, falling to one knee. Cas saw the opportunity and stood up, advancing on him, still speaking the exorcism. But the demon inside Mick wasn’t going to give up without getting a final word in.

“You can send me back to Hell, but Alastair is on his way. He’s going to kill you. Again. And again. And again!”

“Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!” With the last word of the exorcism spoken, Mick threw his head back, his mouth open wide. A black cloud came billowing out of his mouth like a thing alive, hissing and whispering as it released, twisting off into the distance. Mick, now unconscious, dropped to the ground.

Castiel sighed down at the body and looked out to see if any of the men remained. One man sat on the ground a few feet away, staring wide eyed and terrified. Cas called out to him, “Your friend will be fine.”

“What in the Hell was that?” The man called out, voice quivering.

“A demon,” Cas answered. He walked over to his horse and pulled a small pouch from the saddlebag and from that, he took out a silver necklace. “This is an anti-possession charm, it will keep anyone who wears it safe from this happening to them.”

The man stood slowly and came over to Castiel, “What did you do to it?”

“I exorcised it. Sent it back to Hell.”

The man crossed himself and whispered a prayer. Castiel waited.

“Would you like this charm? What’s your name?”

“Aye, I would. I’m Seamus ... Is Mick gonna be alright?” He took the charm from Cas and put it over his head, tucking it into his shirt beside his crucifix.

“Assuming the demon didn’t do anything to his body after possessing him, he should be fine. Maybe rattled.”

“I think we’re all a little rattled... That demon, it spoke like it knew you.”

Castiel looked away and pressed his lips together, not wanting to go into too much detail. “It is very important that this railroad be completed, just as far as the church, thirty miles north of here.”

“Where it crosses the other rails.” Seamus nodded, knowing the place he was talking about. “And the demons don’t want that to happen?”

“Once the rail is complete, no demons past this line will have any power.”

Seamus shook his head, “That’ll make a demon bitter.”

“It surely will.” Cas nodded. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re taking this very well.”

“I’m a church going man,” Seamus said. “And what you just did, that was the Lord’s work, sure enough. Are you a preacher?”

Castiel laughed and shook his head, “No. No, not at all. But I’m good friends with one.”

“Thank you for saving Mick. And the rest of us... What’s your name, mister?”

“Castiel.”

“Name of an Angel yourself, there.” Seamus smiled. “I’ll try and calm the others down, tell ‘em we’ve got to get this rail line finished. You can count on me, Castiel.”

“You have my thanks. Do you need help getting Mick anywhere?”

“Ah, no, I’ll wait for him to wake up. You take care of those demons. I wish you godspeed!”

“Thank you, again. I will come by again to check on you.” With that, he climbed back onto his horse and kicked her into a gallop, heading back to the church to find Pastor Jim. As he rode, he couldn’t help but contemplate what Seamus had said: Doing the Lords work, name of an Angel. If an Angel pulled him out of Hell to finish this job, perhaps he was doing the Lord’s work after all.

Why exactly did that send a shiver up his spine, then? Like someone walked over his grave.

 

* * *

 

Castiel was nearly home, his horse going at a fast gallop, when Dean suddenly appeared in the road before him. His horse bucked and reared back, kicking her front feet into the air. Gripping the reins tight, he wheeled her to the side, trying to keep her from bolting. Looking back into the road to see what caused his horse to nearly throw him, he glared at the angel.

“What are you doing?”

“Standing?” Dean looked down at himself, hands out to the side as if in confusion. “What does it look like?”

“You don’t just appear in front of a charging horse. I could have run you down.” He was still rattled from the demon’s words earlier and another surprise like this was making Cas testy.

“Well, you couldn’t, and you didn’t, so I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

“Is it normal for you angels to go appearing wherever it pleases you? What if someone saw?”

Dean turned his head to look around at the great empty road, then back at Cas. He raised his brow and said nothing.

“Someone could have been traveling the road.” Cas frowned deeply.

“And I would have seen them. Don’t worry so much.”

“Well, let’s go inside all the same...” Cas turned his horse back onto the road and started her towards his home, just a few feet away. Then he realized Dean was gone. After a quick search for him, Castiel gave up. He got off his horse and hitched her to the post outside and walked into the house. A few steps in and there was Dean, inspecting a collection of belts hung on the wall as if it was actually something fascinating. Cas stopped short when he saw the angel inside, clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d drop in. See how things were going.”

“You couldn’t have ‘dropped in’ an hour ago when a demon decided to possess one of the track layers?”

“I had work to do, and you handled it just fine.” Dean turned back to Cas and leaned against Cas’s small dining table.

“Well, assuming that Seamus can get the other workers back on the track today, the rails might be finished in a week. I looked for the hex bags and traps Samuel and I set out last year, but most of them were gone or burnt up. I’ll have to make more.”

“The demons are going to be testier the closer it gets to finished.”

“Yes, I assumed so.” Castiel frowned. “But short of replacing all of our wards and acting like a cattle herd to the track layers for the next week, I don’t know what to do about that.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing, Cas. And if anything out of the ordinary happens, let me know.”

“Out of the ordinary how?”

“You know, not the usual brand of crazy,” Dean shot a smirk to Castiel and shrugged.

Castiel scowled at him. “I was under the impression angels would be more useful than you are.”

“Angels are soldiers, Cas. We aren’t here to perch on your shoulder. And I’m fighting my own war.”

“I’m fighting the same war here on Earth.”

“Not exactly.”

“How do you mean?”

“Yeah, you’re fighting a war with Hell, and I am too. But I’m also fighting a war in Heaven.”

“War? In Heaven?” That wiped the scowl off Castiel’s face and replaced it with confusion. “Why is Heaven at war?”

“We’ll call it... opposing viewpoints.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean. The angel sighed.

“Okay, look, I didn’t want to get into this, but basically, not everyone upstairs is down with the whole... closing the hellmouth thing.”

“Down with it?” He didn’t understand that phrase.

“There are some angels who want it to stay open.”

“But why?” The idea that anyone in Heaven would want demons and spirits walking free on Earth was a complete shock.

“It’s complicated, but basically, something is going to happen 150 years from now, and when it does, that thing needs to be open. Except I, and a bunch of other angels, don’t want that thing to happen. So there’s a faction of us rooting for you to close the gate to Hell.”

“What does God want?” Castiel asked, confused as to how it was that angels could be fighting over something so large.

“It’s complicated.”

“So how do I know you are doing the right thing?”

“How do you know  _I’m_  doing the right thing?” Dean repeated for some reason, gesturing to himself with a hand to his chest. Castiel stared at him. “Let’s take a look at the situation, shall we? You were already going to close the gate. It’s a fucking gate to Hell and the longer it stays open, the more demons and ghosts and tortured souls are going to be pouring out of it harassing the people who live around here. Forget what I think is the right thing to do, what do  _you_  think is the right thing to do?”

“I don’t understand why angels would want something else...” Castiel shook his head.

“Because they want war with Hell.”

“Who actually wants a war?” America was war torn right now, between the Union and the Confederacy, and from what Castiel had seen of war and even with fighting demons and monsters, he only had interest in making it end, not starting up whole new wars.

“Like I said, it’s complicated. But we are doing the right thing here, Cas. I’m telling you. I wouldn’t go digging around Hell if I didn’t know this was the right thing to do and that you were the right man to do it.”

That sparked another concern in Castiel. He sat down on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his legs, hands clasped together between his knees. “What happens when all of this is over? Work is done, I go back to Hell?” The thought made him shiver.

“Cas... No.” Dean shook his head and knelt before Castiel. “You’re alive, you’re not living on borrowed time.”

He raised his gaze to meet Dean’s. “I’m going to die again eventually. I don’t want to go back to Hell.”

“You were never meant to be in Hell, Cas.” Dean reached out and set a hand on Cas’s knee. The hunter stared down at it, but he didn’t move.

“I don’t understand.” He looked at Dean again. He did belong in Hell, the demons had told him as much and he believed it. Why else was he being tormented for all those years?

“Samuel Colt was always meant to die that day. His time had reached an end, but yours hadn’t. Fate was defied that day. Alastair killed you because he knew that, after Colt, you were the only one who could lock him and the rest of demons in Hell. So he made sure you died and dragged you down into the pit. When you die, Cas, when you’re supposed to die, your soul is bound for Heaven.”

Cas still couldn’t believe it. He shook his head, unable to meet Dean’s eyes, instead staring at his chest, without really seeing it. “But all I’ve done. The lives I’ve taken... Human lives.”

“Bad men, who put the innocent in danger. You kill to protect, Heaven knows that.” Dean squeezed Cas’s leg, as if trying to emphasize his certainty of this fact.

Castiel looked down. His eyes fell on Dean’s hand where it rested on his knee.

“You deserved to be saved, Cas.” Dean squeezed his knee again and Cas closed his eyes.

Without knowing what to say, Castiel nodded. It would be so easy to just accept the words Dean was saying, to just let the angel tell him that he was never meant to be in hell. But all those years of convincing himself he deserved it were hard to shake. He leaned back, straightening. His hands drew across his thighs and the fingers of his left hand brushed against Dean’s and the angel released him. He stood, offering a hand to Castiel, which the hunter took and let himself be pulled to his feet.

“Thank you,” Cas said, not sure if he was thanking Dean for the hand or for his attempt at reassurance.

“You know what you need? A drink.” Dean grinned broadly at Castiel and clasped him on the shoulder, giving him a little shake. “Loosen up. You’re alive. You’ve got a mission. Celebrate.”

“Do all angels encourage drinking as much as you do?” Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, letting himself be shaken by the angel. If nothing else, the distraction was welcome.

“Nah, you’re lucky you got the fun angel on your side.”

“Is that how it is?” Castiel raised a brow to Dean. Perhaps he would just try to understand this angel and deal with the rest later.

Dean looked over and studied Castiel for a moment, then started laughing. He patted Cas on the back and led him out of the house. “You know, I like you.”

“Oh, good. Wouldn’t want you to dislike me, I suppose.” Castiel refrained from rolling his eyes and walked out the door. “I’ve only got the one horse, the walk to town is a bit of a hike.”

“I could just pop us over there,” Dean offered and Cas gave him a sidelong glance.

“Don’t you suppose folks might find it a bit funny if we just appear somewhere?” He began walking.

“You humans worry too much.” Dean sighed and caught up to Cas. “Would you rather ride double into town?”

“It would be a good bit faster. You ever ridden anything?” Castiel wasn’t sure if an angel would bother riding a horse.

“Oh, I’ve ridden. I can ride hard.” Dean quirked a grin at Castiel, who stared blankly back at him for a moment before responding.

“Then we will take the horse.” He turned and walked back to his animal and unhitched her from the post. From behind him, he heard Dean say something about being in the wrong era for that joke, but Cas didn’t understand what that meant. The horse was still saddled from earlier, so he mounted and walked her over to Dean, holding out a hand to help him up.

Dean climbed onto the back of the horse behind Castiel with no trouble and set his hands on Castiel’s hips.

“Does your horse have a name?” Dean asked, his mouth near Castiel’s ear. It made him shiver slightly and caused a warm feeling in his belly that Castiel tried to ignore. Unfortunately, the combination of Dean being so close, the angel’s firm hold on his hips and that warm breath made ignoring these strange feelings very difficult.

“Horse.” He answered after clearing his throat.

“You named your horse Horse?” Castiel didn’t have to turn around to know what Dean’s expression must have looked like as he said that. It was the same expression everyone wore, one of disbelief.

“She’s a horse, isn’t she?” He kicked the horse into an easy trot.

“Well, yeah, but your parents didn’t name you Human. Or Boy.”

“I’m sure her parents didn’t name her Nugget or Shiloh, either, but I wasn’t about to name her Neigh.”

Castiel felt Dean lean back as he laughed and, glancing over his shoulder, he saw the angel’s head tipped back a little. Those hands on his hips tightened and Castiel didn’t really know what was so humorous about what he had just said, but for some reason he liked making the angel laugh. Confusing though it was, that laugh and the way Dean’s hands felt on hips hips were a more pleasant distraction from his previous thoughts of returning to Hell. Then again, blasphemous thoughts about an Angel might put him back there, anyway. That drew an ironic smile to Cas’s lips.

 

* * *

 

They made it into town a quarter hour later and Cas walked Horse to the saloon. Most folks out on the street didn’t pay him much heed but just before arriving at the Mystery Spot, the sheriff and his deputy strolled on up. Sheriff Lafitte was a big man with a stern look about him when he wasn’t smiling. His family had come to the Americas from France and it gave him a different sort of accent from most others around town.

Deputy Mills was a woman, which had been a strange choice to everyone in town, but she was just as tough as any man out on the frontier and when asked why he chose a female deputy, Sheriff Lafitte would say, “Would you want to be the one to tell her she couldn’t do it?” Most men, those that knew her, would agree that they wouldn’t. They would just as soon find themselves looking down a barrel of a shotgun if they did. Most likely one sold to her by Mrs. Ellen Harvelle.

“I heard you were back in town,” the sheriff said, glancing from Cas to the man sitting on the horse behind him with a frown. He didn’t seem pleased to have this rumor confirmed. Castiel and the sheriff weren’t on good terms. Sheriff Lafitte often questioned the strange situations Cas found himself in as a result of his demon hunting. When Cas was short on explanations and big on hiding behind the pastor’s protection, it didn’t sit too well with the sheriff.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Castiel said.

“To be honest, we took you for dead when you just up and left. Thought the same of Colt, too.” The sheriff leaned back in his saddle, resting his hands on the pommel.

“Samuel died,” Castiel nodded gravely, then met Lafitte’s eyes. “But I appear to still be alive.”

“We’re sorry about your loss,” Deputy Mills said with a look of deep concern. She had been a more sympathetic type towards Castiel, especially after her son and husband died under strange circumstances and Pastor Jim had helped her through it. Where Lafitte didn’t like Cas, Deputy Mills acted as a mediator on his behalf.

“Samuel Colt was a good man,” the sheriff nodded in agreement.

“He was,” Cas agreed. At least everyone in town did like Samuel. “Is there anything I can do for you, Sheriff? Deputy?”

“No, no, just confirming that you’re back. I see you got yourself a new partner?” He eyed Dean again.

Castiel cleared his throat. “This is Dean. He may be around town a bit. Dean, Sheriff Lafitte and Deputy Mills.”

“Howdy.” Dean smiled and tipped his hat to them. “Sheriff. Ma’am.”

“Deputy,” she corrected.

“Deputy.” Dean repeated with a sheepish grin on his face.

“We’ll be on our way now, if you don’t mind.” Castiel said, hoping to be done here.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you from your business,” the sheriff said, though it didn’t sound like he meant it. He urged his horse out of Castiel’s way and the deputy followed.

Castiel and Dean both gave them a nod and Cas walked Horse the last few feet to the Mystery Spot and hopped off.

“He doesn’t seem to like you too much,” Dean observed when the sheriff and the deputy were out of earshot. He got off the horse as well and let Cas tie her to the hitching post, where she lowered her head to drink from the trough there.

“Indeed, he does not.” Castiel confirmed and walked up the stairs into the saloon.

It was a busy afternoon for Gabriel; people filled the saloon, drinking, talking and flirting with the saloon girls. Gabe poured drinks for a couple of men at the bar before he noticed Castiel walk in. He did a double take at seeing Cas with someone he didn’t recognize. While new faces did show up in the saloon from time to time, they were never brought in by Castiel.

“Well howdy, Cas. Who’s this?” He gave Dean a good once-over before looking at Cas.

“This is Dean. Dean, Gabe, he runs the saloon.” Cas gestured between the men.

“Pleasure, I’m sure,” Dean said, nodding to Gabriel as he took a seat on one of the barstools, looking as excited to be here as a child on Christmas.

“What can I do you boys for?”  Gabe asked, wiping down the counter just in front of Dean. Cas chose not to sit, but instead leaned against the bar beside Dean, keeping his eyes to the room at large, looking around for any troublemakers.

“I’ll have whiskey. Don’t know about my friend here.” Dean gestured to Cas.

Castiel nodded, which was message enough. Gabriel got two tumblers out and a bottle of whiskey, pouring a little into each glass. He set one in front of Cas and slid the other to Dean. “How long have you known Cas?”

“Not long,” Dean grabbed the glass and drank down the whiskey. “But it feels like I’ve known him a lot longer.

Without turning, Cas picked up his own glass and sipped from it, keeping the glass in his hand and his attention on the crowd. Only Gabe would notice the way his eyes narrowed and slid to the side to look curiously at Dean.

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard him speak of you. But then, Cas here doesn’t speak too much about anyone or anything.”

“You do enough talking for everyone.” The corner of Cas’s lips turned up in the subtlest of grins. Gabe just waved him off, because he knew it was true.

“Well, I’m new in town. Might be hanging around for awhile.”

Just as he said this, one of the girls that worked the saloon came over. She knew better than to bother asking Castiel or Samuel if they were interested in her specialties, but no new face got away without a proposition.

“Hey fella, I just hear you’re new in town?”

Dean smiled at her, “That you did. What can I do you for?”

That put a huge smile on the girl’s face as she answered, “About $1.50, but you’re kinda pretty, so for a dollar, we’ll call it even.”

In the background Gabe began laughing at Dean’s confused expression. It was also likely that Dean had no money anyway, unless the pious man he was possessing had left some change in his pocket before Dean took over.

“She’s a whore, Dean.” He said plainly.

“Ohhh... So you thought... No, I... I was just...” Dean sputtered and tried to step away as the girl came closer to him.

Gabe kept on laughing as he escaped to go pour drinks for the other type of paying customer. He kept an eye on Dean, though, tickled by the whole thing. Castiel set his glass down and stepped closer to Dean.

“He ain’t interested, Jenny. Go on, now.”

The girl tutted and sighed, then looked over at Cas, “Still waitin’ for your pretty face to knock on my door.” She reached out a hand to trail down his chest, but Castiel seized it and kept her at arm’s length.

She sighed and dropped the act, pulling her hand away. As Gabriel came back towards them, she shot him a look of annoyance. The bartender just shrugged at her.

“I try to tell them you won’t change your mind.” Gabe said to Cas.

“Not interested in women?” Dean asked. Cas had been asked that before, lots of times, and usually his response was only casual annoyance. When Dean asked, Cas felt himself get warm. Turning, he grabbed his drink and downed what was left in it, sliding the tumbler back to Gabe and nodding for a refill.

“Don’t see much point in my line of work,” Cas muttered as he lifted the refilled glass to his lips. Before he drank he said quietly, “Ties to anyone who isn’t a hunter is just asking for trouble.”

He left unsaid that ties to hunters was just as bad, but in a different way. Colt was the best mentor Cas ever had and he was gone now, too. Ellen lost her husband, and she and Jo would die one day, too. But ties to hunters only meant a fleeting romance. Ties to common folk meant bringing them into danger, so Castiel never gave it much effort.

“You asking for trouble being friends with me?” Gabriel asked, his brow raised. He was teasing about it.

“Don’t feel romantically about you. You’re probably fine.” Cas finished his whiskey around a grin. “Probably.”

“I’ll trust you to keep me safe, then.”

“You pay me to keep you safe,” Cas corrected and set his empty glass down, waving off another refill. “I have to get to Jim, got news for him.”

“Alright, see you ‘round.” Gabe nodded and went off to serve other customers. Cas and Dean left the Mystery Spot, heading towards the church. They walked Horse along, not bothering to ride the short distance, but not wanting to leave her hitched alone by the saloon.

Pastor Jim was inside, making arrangements for the upcoming Sunday sermon. Castiel realized there was something a bit odd about walking into a church trailed by an angel and glanced over at Dean as they walked down the aisle. He didn’t know if he expected to see some sort of glow or halo or anything, but Dean just looked like any other man. Extraordinarily handsome and clean of the dust and dirt that seemed to cover everyone, but just a man nonetheless.

Dean regarded him curiously and somewhat amused by his stare, but Cas said nothing and turned back towards Jim. “Have you got time to speak, pastor?”

“Yes, Castiel.” Jim nodded and set aside his bible on his lectern and stepped towards the pair of them. “Hello again, uh... How exactly do I address an angel?”

“Dean is fine,” the angel shrugged, easygoing.

“Dean it is, then...” Jim turned back to Cas. “You have news?”

“I went to check on the rail lines. All of our wardings have been removed, we’ll have to put them back up. A demon possessed one of the workers while I was there.” Cas frowned at the memory as the demon’s final words came back to him.

“I have some hex bags in storage you can set out for now, but we’ll need to make more to replace them all. Perhaps the Harvelles have some ready. Ellen may be able to help you put down more sigils... That is, unless there’s something you can do?” Jim turned to Dean.

“I know a few warding sigils that might be more effective than the ones you know, but other than that, there isn’t much I can do.”

“There are no angelic spells to keep demons away?”

“If there were, don’t you think we’d just cover the whole world with it?” Dean laughed.

“I couldn’t begin to speculate on what an angel would or wouldn’t do,” Jim said and Castiel wondered if there wasn’t a hint of irritation in his voice.

“Well, no, short of having an angel stand guard over the tracks non-stop, the best I can do is give you some more effective protection sigils.”

“You couldn’t offer an angel for guardianship?”

“You got me and I got stuff to do outside of this. So no, not really.”

“Dean informed me he is not here to... perch on our shoulders.” Cas reiterated to Jim.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Dean said, waving a hand. “I want you guys to succeed, that’s why I’m here, but Heaven’s resources are limited, just like yours are.”

“I understand.” Jim nodded. “Excuse my questioning, but it’s better to ask and get turned down than not to ask at all.”

“Fair enough. You got anywhere I can draw out the sigils? I should probably be getting back to angel business.”

“Of course.” Jim retrieved some writing materials and presented them to Dean. The angel drew out two different sigils and explained the merits of both, making sure they understood before handing the drawings over to Cas.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go. You good?” He looked pointedly at Castiel, with a sincerity in his eyes that gave Cas pause.

“Yes.” Cas said, staring into Dean’s eyes up until the moment the angel vanished. He grinned at Cas, then he was gone. The hunter stood there staring for a moment, pressing his lips together and taking a slow breath before turning to Jim. “I’ll take those hex bags you’ve got.”

After receiving the small supply from Jim and stocking up on some more holy water, Cas left the church for Harvelle’s gun shop. He filled them in on Dean, the progress of the tracks and the missing wards. Ellen gave him what little supplies they had and Jo set to work making more.

 

* * *

 

Jo met Castiel out at the railroad tracks late that evening. It was a clear night with a light breeze. The stars shone bright in the sky in a way that Cas would have appreciated if he had been camping out while traveling between settlements. But he had a job to do and when a demon had a price out on his head, the night seemed more dangerous than beautiful. Having Jo around might have evened the odds, but he couldn’t shake the fear for her safety any time she came out on a job.

“I got more hex bags for you.” Jo said, tossing a small sack of them down beside him. Cas had been drawing out the warding sigils while he waited for her to arrive.

He looked down at the sack, then back up at her. “Thanks. We can start burying them all along the lines where the tracks are meant to be laid.”

“You want to take a break from drawing symbols?”

“Nope.” Cas grabbed the sack and threw it right back at Jo without so much as looking at her. She caught it all the same and went to work digging holes near where the tracks ended and planting hex bags there. Cas looked over to her then. “Don’t go too far.”

“You aren’t my pa.” Jo called back in an exasperated tone. Cas knew she wasn’t angry with him, though.

“Your mama won’t care who I am if anything happens to you.” He called back and smiled as he went back to work. He liked Jo, she was good to work with, even if Ellen scared him sometimes.

“You should worry about what I’m gonna do to you if you keep worryin’ after me.”

“Hmm.” Cas sat up and pretended to contemplate that. “Nope. Somehow Ellen is still more intimidatin’ than you.”

“I’ll show you intimidatin’!” Jo laughed and threw a hex bag at Castiel. He caught it easily, thwarting her efforts to be tough, and he tossed it back at her.

“If you break that bag apart, you’ll be the one picking the pieces up out of the dirt to put it back together. Just do your work and I’ll do mine.” With a smile on his face, Cas finished drawing out the sigil, then stood and moved on to the next location. He and Jo worked nearby to each other and kept up more friendly banter back and forth.

When the job was done, Jo stood from burying her last hex bag, dusted off the knees of her pants and looked up to Castiel, “You think that’ll keep’m safe?”

“No. But it will help.” Cas frowned.

“How long you reckon they’ll last this time?”

He turned to look in the direction where the track hadn’t yet been laid. “Hopefully the week it’ll take for them to finish laying the track.”

“And when this is done, it’ll really keep demons from getting anywhere inside?” Jo asked, her brows drawn up in uncertainty.

“Works just like a devil’s trap. And Samuel said iron’ll make it stronger. He made the trap work on the bullets for his gun so I trust him when it comes to this.”

“What will happen to any demons already inside the trap?”

“Same as happens when we catch one with a smaller devil’s trap: Lose their power.” Cas shrugged. “That was the plan, so that any demons that clawed their way out of the gateway to hell would be powerless on earth.”

“That’s when you’ll close the gate?” Jo looked up at Cas.

“That’s the plan.” Cas touched the Colt revolver where it was holstered at his hip. It was the only way to close the gate and, as far as Dean had said, he was the only one that could do it. “Let’s get you back home.”

Jo rolled her eyes dramatically and gave Cas a shove on the shoulder. “Still not my Pa.”

“Lookin’ out for you, anyway.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her towards the horses. They returned to their homes, finding no trouble along the way.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the course of the next few days, Cas alternated his time between watching over the track laying progress and keeping an eye on Gabe’s saloon. Work on the tracks was slow because even after Castiel had reassured Seamus that he would try to protect them from demons, many of the track layers were skittish about coming back. When two days passed without any demonic possession or death, the need for money brought them back in to complete the team of workers. The sigils and hex bags were doing their job well to keep everyone safe.

Progress on the tracks was looking good and even the folks going to the saloon weren’t misbehaving too much. As things started to go well, Cas became more unnerved. With the way the demon that possessed Mick had warned him, it seemed as though Alastair had plans for him. The longer he went without seeing the demon just put him more on edge. Each person he didn’t recognize in the saloon, every newcomer in town, anyone that just seemed slightly off, Cas studied a little closer. He found himself whispering “Cristo” near people when he was uncertain and drinking more than usual to keep the edge off. Getting Gabe to pour a little holy water into people’s drinks would have been pushing it, so he stopped before that point.

When it looked as if there was just a day’s worth of track to lay, Castiel told Gabriel he wouldn’t be available to look out for the Mystery Spot that day and spent the entire time at the tracks. He found Seamus early that morning as the men arrived to work.

“Do you think you boys can finish this track up to the church today?” He asked, peering in that direction.

“I figure it’s about a mile up, we haven’t had much trouble lately so as long as things run smooth today, I should think so.” The Irishman’s tone seemed confident and easygoing.

“Good. I will make sure things run smooth. You make sure those tracks get laid.”

“I’ll be sure of it!” Seamus gave a firm nod then rallied his men to start laying the track. Castiel sat on his horse nearby, listening to the songs they sang and the steady clank of their work. The closer the workers got to the church, the more Castiel felt a combined sense of hope and dread. If Alastair or any other demons were going to strike, now would be the time.

_“In eighteen hundred and forty-three_

_'Twas then I met Miss Biddy MacGhee_

_And an illygant wife she's been to me_

_While workin' on the railway.”_

One man sang to the others and the whole group sang the chorus, a repeat of, “Fil-i-me-oo-re-i-re-ay” three times and ending with “To work upon the railway.” Their accents became much stronger as they sang, to the point where Cas just enjoyed the lilting sound of it, rather than knowing what they actually said. By high noon, the songs had almost lulled Cas into a false sense of security.

In the distance, he could see the church. Maybe the all the hexes and wards had worked? Maybe fate had somehow decided that this was meant to happen? Or maybe Alastair had just given up on him? And maybe that small, charred looking thing just a few feet away was just a rock. Cas slowly slid off Horse and stepped towards the object in question. His feet crunched against the hard dirt and the sound of the singing seemed distant in his mind.

It wasn’t a rock. Cas lifted up the charred remains of one of Jo’s hex bags and cursed under his breath. Narrowing his eyes, he looked back at the Irishmen, then ahead towards the church and out across the open land. He heard a pop, pop, pop. Charred hex bags appeared, coming out from where they had been buried. Holes burst in the ground where the hidden sigils were, spraying clumps of dust and dirt into the air. The workers halted, jarred by the sudden small explosions. The dropped their equipment and gathered together.

Castiel ran back towards them, pulling the demon killing gun from the holster. “Is everyone wearing a charm?” He called out to them.

Startled and shaking, they all pulled the anti possession charm necklaces from the places beneath their shirts to prove they were.

“Good. Get out of here. Go to the church, make sure there’s holy water, stay inside.”

“What about you?” Seamus asked as the others were already running.

“This is what I’m here for. GO!” He pointed to the church and Seamus ran. Used to hard labor, the men were strong and fast, but not quite fast enough. The first demon appeared right by the men, snatching one from the group and pulling him aside. He wrapped an arm around the man’s neck, standing behind him and using him as a shield. Castiel ran towards them, holding his gun up pointed at the demon.

“Can’t kill me without killing him...” The demon said with a grin.

The other workers hesitated, as if to help their friend, but Seamus managed to convince them to keep running.

“Let him go.” Cas said, walking slowly forward, gun aimed at the demon’s head.

“Is that your fancy gun? The one that’s supposed to kill demons?” The demon was calm, even smug, despite the man struggling against him. It didn’t seem to take any effort at all to keep him trapped.

“You want to find out? I’ll be glad to show you. Or... Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” Cas began an exorcism, rather than continue the banter.

The demon’s head twitched to the side and he winced. He growled, “Keep that up and I’ll snap his neck before you can finish.”

Cas stopped when the demon brought his hand up to the worker’s chin. A ghastly smile spread across the demon’s face.

“Now that’s more like it. Not so easy when you don’t have a friend to help you out, is it? Unfortunately for you, I do have friends. Lots of them. I think you’ve already met one of them...” The demon nodded behind Castiel.

Not wanting to turn away from the demon, Cas gritted his teeth and tried to see through his peripheral vision the other demon.

“Oh, you don’t want to meet him? Too worried about your human?” The demon frowned and spoke in a pouting voice, teasing Castiel. “I can help with that.” He snapped the worker’s neck and let the body slump to the ground.

With a shout, Castiel shot the demon and quickly turned around to see who else was there. He held up the gun towards the other but froze almost instantly. Alastair stood before him and lifted a hand to wave.

“Hello again, Castiel.” His voice was vicious and taunting, like a casual greeting between friends. Without hesitating, Castiel shot at Alastair, only to have the demon wave a hand and send him sprawling in the dirt. The shot missed and the hit knocked the wind from him. Nearby his horse whinnied and skittered, as if unsure whether to bolt or stick around.

Cas groaned and pushed himself up, keeping a tight grip on the revolver. “I’m going to kill you, Alastair.”

“Seems you had some trouble with that the last time when I, oh yeah, killed  _you_.” Alastair walked slowly forward and gestured again, sending Castiel skidding backwards through the dirt. “How was Hell, anyway, Cas?”

“Not keen to go back anytime soon.” Cas hissed, jaw tight. Without wasting time getting up, he pointed the gun at Alastair and pulled the trigger. His aim was off and the bullet flew right past Alastair’s shoulder, missing the mark.

“Oh, very close, but not quite good enough.” Alastair brushed his shoulder off. “I’m going to have some fun with you.” He stalked forward and kicked the gun from Cas’s hand, sending it out of his reach. As Cas tried to get up, Alastair kicked him again, this time getting him in the ribs and knocking Cas back again.

Hugging his middle, Cas grunted and gathered the energy to roll over out of Alastair’s reach. It gave him just enough time to pull himself to his feet. “Dean... if there was ever a good time for you to show up, this is it.”

“Dean? Is that your ... Angel friend?” Alastair asked, practically spitting out the word ‘angel’.

Cas pulled a container of holy water from his coat and opened it. He rushed Alastair and splashed the holy water on him, causing the demon to stagger backwards in pain. “He’s the angel that undid your work.”

Hissing, Alastair turned back to Castiel, “That’s just fine, I’ll enjoy killing you again.” He flung Cas backwards once more. Cas smashed into the hard iron of the completed rails and felt the sharp pain of a cracked rib. He groaned, stilled for a moment. He pushed himself up on an arm and took a slow breath. If his rib was broken, it wasn’t affecting his ability to breathe too badly, which was a small victory.

“I could really use you now, Dean,” he whispered into the air, hoping that it didn’t matter how loud he said it. Standing again, he faced Alastair and charged forward, splashing him with the holy water again. Alastair covered his face where the holy water had gotten him and shouted.

While Alastair was recovering, Cas ran for the revolver. He slid through the dirt the last few feet and grabbed the gun. Just as he laid his hands on it, Alastair had recovered and caught up with him. Crouching, he punched Cas across the jaw, knocking him into the ground. Cas could taste blood in his mouth and dirt on his lips.

Alastair grabbed him by the hair and held him up, speaking into Cas’s ear. “We could do this the human way, too, if you want. I don’t mind breaking you before I kill you again.” He slammed Cas’s head into the ground. The world started spinning and Cas winced his eyes shut as Alastair pulled him up by his hair again. He braced for the next hit, but it never came.

“Leave him alone.” A voice said from somewhere behind Castiel.

Alastair dropped Cas and stood upright; Cas could hear the demon’s feet scuffing the ground. He rolled onto his back.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll smite your ass back to hell,” Dean said, smug. He stepped forward, towards Castiel and the hunter slowly sat up, trying to get further away from the two supernatural beings.

“I think it’s time for me to be on my way.” Alastair sneered at the both of them. “I have some other business to attend to...”

The demon vanished and Cas sagged, leaning heavily on one arm and wrapping his other arm around his ribs. “Nice timing.”

“Sorry, I was busy.” Dean moved over to Cas and crouched beside him. Reaching out, he set a hand on Cas’s shoulder. It felt warm and comforting in a way that Cas needed right now.

“Better late than never, they say,” Cas closed his eyes and felt like he might pass out. “We need to get the men back to work.”

“We’ll get them. But how about we fix you up, first.” Dean set the palm of his other hand to Castiel’s head and a moment later, all the pain was gone. Cas sat upright. He touched his cheek, even the blood and dirt was gone.

“How did you do that?” Cas blinked up at Dean, awestruck.

“Lot of benefits to being an angel. Come on,” He grabbed Cas’s arms at the elbows and hauled him back up to his feet. When they were both standing, Dean bent over to grab the revolver and set it back into Cas’s hands. “Don’t forget this.”

“Thanks,” Cas holstered the gun and looked around. The demon he had shot at earlier died while he was focused on Alastair. The body of the human it had possessed was dead on the ground beside the railway worker whose neck had been snapped. All along the track line were burnt up hex bags and burst lines in the dirt where the sigils had been. His eye went back to the Irishman. “I couldn’t save him.”

“You can’t save them all,” Dean said, setting a hand on Cas’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“We should get him to the church, back to the others. They should know,” Cas pulled away from Dean’s comforting touch and stooped to gather the dead worker. It was his fault this man was here in the first place.

“I’ll give you a hand with it.” Once Cas had the man cradled in his arms, Dean touched his shoulder again and they were suddenly transported to a place just outside the church. It was a strange and disorienting feeling, but it saved them the mile long hike, not that Castiel would have complained about bearing the burden of the dead man.

He took the man into the church, where Dean followed behind. The men were sitting in the pews speaking softly to the priest when they entered.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t save him,” Castiel said as he laid the man down on a pew. The other workers gathered around and whispered their prayers. The priest came near to take care of him. Seamus stepped away from the group and approached Castiel.

“What do we do now?” He glanced to Dean curiously, then back to Cas.

“It is imperative that we finish the tracks... but I would understand if they are too frightened to help.” Castiel’s gaze drifted over to the dead man.

“How much more must we give?” One of the men nearest to them chimed in. “Will they kill us all?”

“They may try.” Cas answered seriously. “I cannot force you to work, but this cause... We will all be safer once the tracks are complete. Until then, there is no guarantee that anyone is safe.”

“How does it work, anyway?” Another man asked, seeming sympathetic.

Castiel patiently explained how a devil’s trap worked on a small scale and then explained the railway design on a large scale. Some of the men listened intently, others seemed more focused on their grief or fear.

The priest looked up from his work to Castiel. “How did you come to have this job?”

“It’s a long story...” Cas frowned, not especially interested in telling the story of his sordid past.

“It’s his fate.” Dean interrupted. All eyes turned to him.

“Who are you, exactly?” Seamus asked, though not rudely.

“I’m an angel of the lord.”

Everyone fell into stunned silence, but the priest was the first to break it. “I will not have blasphemy in my church.”

“Would you like some proof?” Dean raised a brow.

The men shifted uneasily, glancing at one another, and at Castiel, who stood stone-faced in the midst of it all. The priest nodded. “I would.”

“Alright then.” A darkness shifted across the church, blotting out the sun that shone in through the stained glass windows. Only the few lit candles illuminated the room. Then, flashes like lightning arced through the small church, throwing shadows onto the wall. Behind Dean, the shadow of not just a man, but large wings slowly expanding, could be seen. The men all trembled, still frightened from the earlier demon attack. They shrank back away from Dean and only the priest and Castiel stood strong beside him.

Cas stared at the shadowy wings against the wall, then to Dean’s back. The angel wore a confident, almost smug look on his face. When he turned to the priest, Castiel saw the man’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. He crossed himself and then bowed his head.

“Forgive my disbelief.” The priest said and the room returned to normal, bright summer sky once again lighting the room.

“It happens. Can’t really blame humans, you haven’t seen one of us in a long time.” Dean shrugged, as if it was all commonplace. Though, to him it was. “Anyway, as I was saying, Heaven needs Cas here to finish his work. So we really need you guys to finish the devil’s trap.”

“Will you keep us safe?” One of the men asked.

Dean was silent for a beat, then nodded. “I will.”

Castiel looked up at him and wondered if he was able to spend so much time away from heaven, but didn’t question it. He was thankful for the help. All the workers looked at one another for confirmation, then Seamus was the one who nodded to Dean and Cas.

“We will do it.”

“Great! Think you’re up for starting again, like, now?” Dean thumbed over his shoulder at the door.

“Aye,” Seamus nodded and they gathered together. They asked the priest to take care of their fallen friend, giving him the man’s name and telling him of his family. The priest agreed, of course, still in awe of the angel and working under the assumption that they were on a mission from God.

Once all the workers filed out of the church, Dean and Castiel followed behind them. Dean tapped Seamus on the shoulder. “You’re Seamus, right?”

“I am,” Seamus confirmed.

“Your family name doesn’t happen to be McFly, does it?” Dean asked and Castiel gave him a strange look.

Seamus’s brows drew together, “No. It’s O'Malley. Why d’you ask?”

Dean laughed to himself, “No reason, just curious.”

“There are many people named Seamus; it’s a very common name.” The Irishman said, then walked ahead. Castiel questioned Dean but the angel waved it off.

The men returned to work. Horse had run off when Alastair attacked, but Castiel found her again when they got back. Dean dealt with the unnamed demon’s discarded body and Cas didn’t ask what he did with it. The rest of the day passed without incident under Dean and Castiel’s watchful eye. Cas presumed having an angel to guard them was more useful than any number of hex bags and sigils, even the more powerful ones Dean had given them.

In the peace of the later afternoon, Castiel’s mind began to wander. Though the tracks were nearing completion and the job was almost over, he couldn’t shake the unnerved feeling he was experiencing. He would be safe inside the devil’s trap once it was done -- they would all be safe -- but he worried about what other business Alastair was referring to before he left. On top of that, Cas kept having flashbacks to decades of Hell. He felt the phantom injuries from when the demon beat him earlier today, regardless Dean’s healing. The guilt of being unable to save the worker, whose name, Castiel realized, he never even knew, then asking the men to carry on working, weighed on his conscious.

He tried to repeat Dean’s words, that he didn’t actually belong in Hell, over and over in his head. But no matter how many times he said it to himself, it wouldn’t sink in. Perhaps it would take as long to convince him he belonged in Heaven as he had spent convincing himself he belonged in Hell. But if that was the case, he would be standing in front of the pearly gates themselves before he believed it.

Castiel closed his eyes and bowed his head, running his thumb over the soft leather of Horse’s reins, listening to the metallic ringing that filled the air. Dean surprised him when he set a hand on Cas’s back.

“You okay?” He asked when Castiel opened his eyes and looked over. Dean seemed concerned.

“I’m fine. Just need a long drink when this is all over.” Cas turned his attention back to the men, to avoid the searching look in Dean’s eyes.

“Good thing you’re friends with the guy who runs the saloon, then.”

Castiel scoffed a laugh, but there was no humor behind it. Dean kept looking at him, his mouth set in a frown. After a time, his hand slid away from Castiel’s back.

They stood in silence watching the men work until they finally reached the church late into the night. Normally the men wouldn’t work so late, but they all agreed it was best to finish the job now, rather than wait another day and risk another attack. When the rails connected with the other track past the church, nothing spectacular happened; nonetheless, the trap was complete. Dean and Cas both assured the men that the demons would have no concern with the rails past the church and that they would be safe from here on out. Should they be attacked, though, Castiel advised that they cross these rails. No demon would be able to harm them inside it.

 

* * *

 

Dean left when the job was done and Cas took Horse back to town. He stopped off at the saloon to be sure all was well, then bought a bottle of whiskey from Gabe and headed home to drink it alone. That’s how he intended to spend the whole evening until he fell asleep. Halfway into the bottle, Castiel was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall, half dressed down for bed. His boots were by the door, his duster hung up on its peg. He shrugged out of suspenders and left his shirt draped over the back of a chair.

Castiel couldn’t exactly remember the last time he ate; it might have been when he had an apple out of Horse’s saddle bag sometime before the demon attack. The whiskey was going to his head and at some point he had intended to sit at the small wooden table in his room, but missed and decided that the floor was just as comfortable. After taking another swig of the bottle he placed it between his knees, loosely holding the neck and resting his head back against the wall.

Visions of hell had been plaguing him all evening as did the more recent memories of how helpless he was against Alastair. Knowing that the demons could not get to him inside the finally finished devil’s trap was the only comfort. It was the only reason he allowed himself this night to get well and truly drunk. The alcohol helped ease his troubled mind, it made the memories hazy, but also made the guilt of the railway worker’s death much worse.

He turned his thoughts to Dean. The angel who saw something in him, saw a reason to save him. Dean, who fought against Heaven because he believed what Cas was doing was right, told him that he didn’t deserve to be in hell, that he was going to heaven. Dean, who felt warm against his back when they rode to town, whose eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled and laughed, who, despite being an angel, was fun and playful and not stiff or anything like what Castiel thought an angel would be. Dean had been quietly turning his world upside down and it all started the day he woke in a coffin, six feet below the ground he walked on now.

“Dean...” He said aloud, nearly slurring. He closed his eyes and kept his head against the wall. “I think I’m lost.”

Cas breathed deep and slow, trying to stop the spinning sensation caused by the alcohol. He pictured Dean’s face, his easygoing smile, his bright green eyes. That face was like an anchor, keeping him grounded to this world. But the smile on Dean’s face turned to a frown, his brows drew together as if the angel was concerned and he spoke.

“Cas?”

The word was so loud, just three letters, half his name. It was so loud in his mind he thought it was real.

“Cas?” The voice said again and Castiel opened his eyes. Dean was there. In his home, crouching in front of him. He was so close, he had to be real, but Castiel knew just how drunk he was and didn’t quite believe it.

“Dean...?” He reached out a hand to touch Dean’s face, fingers connecting with the sandpaper feel of a scruffy cheek. “Do angels need to shave?” Castiel asked drunkenly, leaning forward.

Dean’s hand came up to Castiel’s and he tipped his cheek towards it. “What happened to you man?”

“Whiskey,” He said. “Hell? Life?” He fell back against the wall, his hand trailing away from Dean’s face and falling into his lap.

The angel knelt before Cas and took the whiskey bottle away, setting it aside. “Okay, I know I’m all for drinking every once in awhile, but isn’t this a little excessive?”

“One night to forget Hell is all I want.”

“Cas...”

“It’s my fault that man died today.”

“Come on, don’t go down that road, Cas. Let’s get you sobered up a bit.” He tugged on Cas’s arm, trying to pull him up, but the hunter just sagged back against the wall and groaned. “Do you have any coffee here?”

“You going to make me coffee, Dean?” For some reason this made him laugh. “The Angel of Coffee. Is there such a thing?”

“How do you expect to fight Alastair if you’re drunk?” Dean was apparently trying a different tactic. He used brute strength to pull Cas to his feet like he weighed nothing.

“I can’t beat Alastair anyway.” Even if Dean was strong enough to lift Cas, the drunken man wasn’t strong enough right now to keep himself upright. He fell against Dean’s chest and stayed there. Hands grabbed at that well-kept vest that was perfectly buttoned over Dean’s shirt.  

Dean caught him and wrapped one strong arm around Cas’s waist to keep him upright. He leaned back trying to see Cas’s face. “You can beat Alastair. All it takes is one shot. You can do this, you hear me? And you can close the Devil’s Gate.”

Castiel lifted his head and saw the earnest look in Dean’s face. He truly believed what he was saying, believed in Cas. It was so honest that Cas believed it, himself. Without thinking, he leaned in and kiss Dean hard on the lips. He didn’t know what he was doing, hadn’t ever been interested in kissing anyone before, and yet all his instincts told him it was what he wanted right now.

Samuel had believed in Cas, but believed in him the way a teacher believes in a student. Castiel had looked up to him as someone that could show him ways to keep himself alive. Their relationship never felt like anything stronger than friendship and that of a mentor and apprentice. Cas spent a lot of time around Gabe and the women of the saloon, but he had no interest in them, either. He just never put any thought into it. But Dean had stirred feelings in him that others hadn’t with the way he looked and talked and smiled and laughed.

Now, right now, when he offered Cas all the solace he needed in the world, all Cas wanted to do was kiss him. So that’s what he did: he kissed Dean, an angel, and Dean kissed back. Cas brought both hands up to hold onto Dean, cupping the sides of his neck, the tips of his fingers sliding into his hair. Dean’s arms were strong around him, pinning their bodies together and it felt like the safest place. Cas wasn’t used to being afraid and didn’t often seek comfort, but he couldn’t deny how simply good it felt to be safe in Dean’s arms.

As Cas tipped his head, he let his lips part. Dean’s mouth was open against his; the angel’s lips were soft and his mouth was warm and just when Cas chanced touching his tongue to one of those soft lips it all ended suddenly. Dean pulled back, grabbing Cas by the shoulders and holding him at arm’s length. The world spun and Cas stumbled, trying to catch up with what just happened.

“Dean...” He looked up at the angel who seemed to have a halo, not because he was an angel so much as because Cas was seeing double. Dean was frowning, looking pained and sympathetic. Cas couldn’t handle it. He turned away and shook his head, which was a poor idea. “I’m sorry. I’ve had too much to drink.”

“Cas--”

Cas put more distance between them, holding an arm out as a barrier and stumbled towards the bed. “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

Dean was silent in a way that wrenched Cas’s heart, though he didn’t understand why. Thankfully, he could blame it all on the whiskey and hopefully forget it in the morning. But tonight, when he looked back and Dean was gone, it felt awful. Wiping a hand over his face, Castiel gave up and fell into his bed. His pants were still on and he hadn’t even gotten under the covers, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Getting drunk had not been a good idea after all, but on the bright side, Cas thought as he drifted off to sleep, he wasn’t thinking about Hell.


	5. Chapter 5

Cas woke the next morning to a loud banging. At first he thought it was just the pounding of his head from all the whiskey he drank last night, but reality came with waking and he soon realized someone was pounding on his door. Behind the noise was also shouting, the shouts of a familiar voice. Pulling himself out of bed, Cas was surprised to find himself fully under the covers, which wasn’t how he vaguely remembered passing out. He was also wearing nothing but long-johns, his pants folded over the chair with his shirt.

Quickly grabbing his pants, Cas shuffled and stumbled to the door while pulling them on and threw the door open, “Ellen, what’s going on?”

She stormed past him into the small house and turned on him, pointing an angry finger at Cas, “Jo’s missin’! She’s been nabbed and it’s your damn fault.”

Cas held up both hands in surrender, trying to catch up with everything that was suddenly happening. He was equally shocked by the news that someone had taken Jo as he was to discover that there was no effect on his head or stomach from all the drinking he did last night.

“Who took Jo, now?” He ushered Ellen over to the table, where the whiskey bottle was sitting, corked. Cas could have sworn he left it on the floor. He grabbed a glass and poured Ellen a shot to calm her down. She downed it and gestured for a second, then took a breath as Cas poured her another.

“I woke up this morning and found the place in shambles, like someone had been struggling. When I went to find Jo and see if she knew what happened, she was gone. Someone took my baby.”

“Did you tell the sheriff?”

“No, I figured it had something to do with those demons.”

“We finished the rails last night, the demon trap should be effective. They don’t have any powers in here.”

“Demons can use a fist or a gun just as easily as a man can. If they’re grasping at straws now,” Ellen gestured for him to fill in the rest.

“Wait, you think they took Jo to get to us?”

“What’s the next step?” Ellen shrugged. “You stay in the trap, they can’t get to you ‘cept the human way. They need that gun Colt made to stop you from closing the trap. So they take Jo for leverage to lure you out.”

Cas slumped into the other chair at the table and ran a hand over his face. “It would make sense... We should still tell the Sheriff, just in case. Then find out where the demons are and make a plan.”

“Don’t you bargain with my baby’s life now, you hear?” Ellen pointed a finger sternly at Cas.

“I won’t. But I’m not gonna hand over the revolver without a plan to get it back.” Cas said in return, equally firm. “We’ve come too far to let a handful of demons trap us at the end.”

“Well, you better make a plan and make it fast. If anything happens to her...”

“I know, I’ll find myself back in that box I climbed out of.” Cas finished for her.

Ellen sighed and her face softened. “I’m sorry, Cas. I’m just worried about Jo.”

He stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, not usually one for much physical closeness. “You’re worried about your daughter. I understand. Let me get dressed and we’ll see if we can’t find these demons.”

“Alright,” She stood and dabbed at her eyes, trying to hide the tears that were forming. Cas politely pretended not to notice. “You get dressed, I’ll get Horse ready for you. Meet me outside quickly.”

Cas put on some clean clothes, boots and holstered the colt, then gave the house one last, confused look. Dean had left him last night, after that kiss that should never have happened. So why was it that he found himself tucked into bed with everything put away?

“If you did this, Dean... Thank you. And I’m sorry, but I may need your help again before too long.” He turned his eyes towards the ceiling with his prayer, then grabbed his duster and pulled it on as he stalked out of the house. Ellen was already seated on her horse and had his mare saddled and ready to go.

 

* * *

 

Ellen went straight to the Sheriff’s office to tell them that Jo had been taken, but Cas skipped the trip there and instead began his own investigation at Ellen’s home before Benny came through. The sheriff and his officers were good at figuring out human crimes, but didn’t recognize the supernatural clues demons might leave behind. Cas needed to search the house before the officers had a chance to come through and disturb everything.

Being that the demons were powerless, he found no sulfur anywhere. What he did find were blood spots on the floor, a charred hex bag, which he pocketed, and other signs of struggle. A chair was broken, a table overturned, a few of their belongings were strewn on the ground. Ellen and Jo had a good collection of guns and knives, all of which had been rifled through. He searched for a hidden compartment at the back of a drawer and found it empty. Cas knew that Ellen’s husband used to hide special hunting equipment back there. Being empty meant that either Ellen armed herself before she came for Cas or the demons took whatever was in there while searching for Colt’s revolver. He would have to ask Ellen to confirm it.

Outside, he crouched down to inspect the tracks in the dirt. It was clear which tracks were Ellen’s, her smaller feet and distinct boot prints were running towards their shed, then horse tracks led out to Cas’s house. His own tracks were obvious to him, then there were the footprints of at least two other men which were uneven in the dirt. They showed signs of struggling, twisting occasionally and sometimes more depressed or shallower. Every few steps there was a scuff of something else, possibly a boot making a little crescent mark in the dirt. He tracked it out a few feet and then found the footprints became much cleaner.

Standing upright and turning back towards Ellen’s house, he envisioned two men carrying Jo out, the young woman flailing around to try and break free. Most likely, one of them knocked her out, then their trek became easier. Clenching his jaw, he silently commended her for putting up a fight. When he looked a little closer on the way back to the house, he spotted a couple drops of blood in the tracks where the struggle had been. Either Jo was hurt or she managed to stab one of the demons in the fight. He hoped for the latter. Blood would make the trail easier to follow, though.

Going back to Horse, Castiel glanced in the direction of the Sheriff’s office, wondering if he should wait for Ellen or go on ahead. Time could be of the utmost importance here. Even if the demons didn’t intend to kill Jo, he wouldn’t doubt their attempts to torture her, even just for fun. Gritting his teeth against the thought of demons hurting Jo in any way, he hurried back into the house, scrawled out a quick note to Ellen that she would understand and left. Swinging up onto Horse, Cas kicked her into a gallop and followed the tracks in the most obvious direction.

 

* * *

 

A few miles out, Castiel came upon a ravine between two hills. The tracks became harder to follow and Cas knew an ambush when he saw one. Without backup and without knowing where the demons might be, he was left with limited options. He drew the demon killing gun and urged Horse slowly down the path, keeping his eyes to the hills. It was possible he was just being over-cautious, but he wasn’t going to risk charging in headfirst and getting caught unaware.

Castiel walked half way into the ravine before gunfire shocked Horse, making her rear back. He quickly regained control of her and looked for the source of the gunfire. Spurring Horse towards his attackers, he stopped at the bottom of the hill under the cover of brush. With any luck, this would give the ambusher, be they human or demon, a worse angle for attack. Just then, shots were fired from the opposite hill. The thing Castiel noticed about the shots now that he hadn’t a moment ago was that his ambushers weren’t using shotguns or rifles; they were using pistols. He almost laughed to himself.

“Whoever you are, you aren’t ever going to hit me from this distance.” Cas called out to them.

Another shot was fired, then silence. Presumably, his attackers realized he was right. A shuffling sound came from where his enemies were positioned. Keeping up his guard, Castiel backed away, watching a man come down the hill to his right. In the man’s hand was a revolver, which he attempted to keep trained on Castiel while picking his way down the hill.

“This might be the worst ambush I have ever seen...” Cas shouted, while looking for a safe place. They may be bumbling, but they still had the higher ground. He cast an eye to the hill on the left for the second man. There was a boulder not far from Cas which would be large enough to hide behind if he dismounted.

“We have the girl!” The closer man - or, rather, powerless demon - said, still making his way down the hill.

“Where is she?” Cas growled out the question, done messing around now that he knew they were the demons that took Jo and not just highwaymen.

“Not here.” The second demon said. By now they were both down in the ravine, but standing wide apart so that he couldn’t aim his gun at both at the same time. They both held guns on him. “Is that Samuel Colt’s gun?”

“It is. Want me to prove it?” Cas raised a brow and pulled back the hammer.

“Actually, we would like you to hand it right over.”

“That isn’t going to happen until I get Jo back.” Ideally, it wouldn’t happen at all, but he knew he could use it as a bargaining chip.

“Or we just shoot you now and take it from you.” The demon cocked his gun.

Cas slid his eyes over to that demon. He had faith in his own shooting ability and knew he could kill one of them easily. What he didn’t know was how good a shot a demon was. Having supernatural powers would leave them little to no reason to practice with guns and Cas was banking on their hopefully bad aim.

“That’s one plan. I imagine whoever is bossing you around must have some reason behind taking Jo, though. How much trouble do you plan on getting into by killing me?”

The first demon laughed. “That bitch doesn’t mean anything to us. She was just a tool to lure you out with that gun of yours. Looks like it worked.”

Cas didn’t give the demon any warning. He shot the first one dead before it could draw another breath and had the revolver trained on the second before it even realized what had happened.

“Listen. I only need one of you alive to get what I need. You can try to shoot me, but you’ll be dead before you pull the trigger. Where’s Jo?”

“I ain’t tellin’ you that.”

Cas cocked the gun and said nothing.

“Killing me won’t get you your answers.”

“Then I propose you start talking if you want to live.” He narrowed his eyes at the demon.

“We’ll trade. The girl for the gun.”

“Where?”

“Down by the tracks on the south side of town. Right on the border of your... Devil’s trap.” The demon hissed the last words and Castiel smirked, glad the demon was feeling powerless. “Meet us at noon. We’ll have your pathetic human girl. You bring us the gun.”

“Noon, then.” Castiel nodded, then gestured the demon away with his gun. “You walk away first.”

The demon held Cas’s gaze for a moment, perhaps considering defying him, but gave in with a growl and walked away. Once he was out of shooting range, Castiel turned Horse and spurred her on, galloping back towards home to get Ellen. They had to make a plan.

 

* * *

 

When he got back in town, Cas found Ellen outside her house, Sheriff Lafitte and Deputy Mills were off to the side talking to each other. He eyed them and waved Ellen over.

“What did you find out?” She asked quietly, keeping half her attention of the local law.

“The demons did take Jo. It’s as you thought, they want Colt’s gun.” He didn’t see much point in telling Ellen that the demons hadn’t planned a switch initially. “She wasn’t with the two of them that... attempted to ambush me, but I arranged a meeting. Noon, we meet at the tacks to the south.”

“I’m going with you.” Ellen said with a tone that left no room for arguments.

“That was my plan, too. Trust me. Do you think we can slip out without...” Cas looked over to Benny, intending to gesture to him, but when he did so it appeared the Sheriff had already noticed him. “Guess not.”

“You keep your nose out of this,” Benny said, coming closer, a frown set on his lips. “This is work for the law.”

“I’m here to comfort a friend is all, Sheriff.” Cas put his arm around Ellen, who sniffled in a way completely unbefitting of her.

“You best keep it that way. We don’t need you poking around with crazy voodoo on this case. A girl is missing and I intend to find her.”

“Absolutely, Sheriff.” Cas tipped his hat to the man. “If you have no more need for her, I think I’ll take Miss Ellen here somewhere she can relax, away from all this.”

Benny opened his mouth to say something, but Deputy Mills reached out her hand and set it on Benny’s arm.

“I think that would be mighty nice of you, Cas. You two go on out of here.” Jody smiled at them. “We’ll find your girl, Ellen.”

“Thank you kindly, Deputy.” Cas escorted Ellen away, leading Horse by the reigns, and walked them over to the church.

When they were out of earshot, Ellen muttered to Cas, “Ifin’ you were taking me somewhere to relax, I’d rather go to the saloon than the church.”

“I had a feeling you might, but the saloon don’t have holy water and other supplies we can use on demons, does it?”

“No, but it does have whiskey.” Ellen frowned and stared ahead.

“So does the preacher.”

The look of surprise that Ellen gave him made Castiel scoff a laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

At the church, the pair of them loaded up on bottles of holy water, a sawed-off shotgun, and a knife that Jim and Samuel had worked on together that was effective against demons. Cas refilled the bullets in Colt’s revolver and Ellen grabbed extra salt rounds for the shotgun. Samuel taught him to make both bullets before he died and they always kept a small stock in the church, at Ellen’s gun shop and in both Samuel and Cas’s homes. Jim said a prayer for their safety and wished them luck before sending them on their way.

They road double on Horse over to where they would meet the demons, and though it should have been the furthest thing from Castiel’s mind right now, he couldn’t seem to help thinking about how good it had felt when Dean road behind him just a couple days ago. And like thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have always do, they just led to more of the same. The drunken kiss he and Dean shared came back to him for the first time since he woke that morning. Even inebriated, Cas had known it felt good enough that he wanted it again.

But he was a fool. A fool for kissing an angel. A fool for thinking about it now, when there were more important things going on. And a fool wanting more. Castiel pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on Jo, focused on what the demon had said about her not being worth anything to them except bait, and spurred Horse on a little faster.

They closed in on the tracks a little before noon, the sun high in the sky. Slowing Horse to a walk, Cas and Ellen kept their eyes peeled for any sign of the demons. If they got there before the demons, it would give them a great advantage, but if they got there second, Cas didn’t want to give the demon’s any forewarning. Of course, being a railroad track, there wasn’t exactly much to hide behind. Cas kept them close to the tracks for now, so that their form wouldn’t be as noticeable as a black speck on the dusty plains would.

A mile on, they spotted figures surrounding the track. “Reckon that’s them?” Ellen asked over his shoulder.

“I do.” Castiel nodded. Too far out to see what they were doing, they could at least make out the shapes and know they weren’t the first to arrive. “Looks like two or three demons, maybe.”

“Can you tell where they got Jo?”

“Not yet.” He walked them on further and felt his belly tense, the way it sometimes did before a big fight. In his time as a gunslinger, Cas usually had fights sprung upon him, but every so often, he knew what he was walking into. Samuel always said that feeling was your gut getting you ready for what you were about to do. It kept you quick and alert.

Closer to the demons, it became clear there were three men standing together, two inside the trap and one outside. Worse than that, it appeared that they had Jo tied to the rails. Keeping quiet, Castiel whispered to Ellen.

“They’re going to notice us any minute. What do you want to do?” Being that it was her girl’s life in danger, he was going to let Ellen call the shots.

“Kill their sorry asses and ask questions later.” Ellen growled behind him.

“Guns blazing. Alright.” He pulled the Colt and cocked the hammer before charging Horse on towards the demons. It was as close to the element of surprise as they would get, charging in and shooting. Cas kept his aim on the demon on the outside, only too late realizing it was Alastair. Behind him, Ellen was leaning back and aiming her shotgun at the demon closest to her baby.

The two powerless demons scrambled for their guns when they heard Cas’s horse pounding its hooves towards them. Before he was close enough to get a really good aim, Cas fired at Alastair, only to miss. Ellen managed to hit one of her demons, though, knocking him off balance. The demon still standing began firing his gun, but his aim was just as bad as Cas had hoped. Horse, to her credit, kept on charging despite the gunfire, but Alastair put an end to that. He sent a blast of demon power at the horse and she reared and whinnied, throwing Ellen and nearly throwing Cas.

Ellen tumbled to the ground with a hard thud, the gun knocked from her grasp, but she got up quickly, pulling holy water and the knife and charging at one of the powerless demons. He shot at her, but she was agile and determined, keeping low and running fast, making her a hard target to hit. Cas regained control of Horse enough to dismount properly and gave her a slap on the backside to get her moving out of danger. She would make good cover in a firefight but Cas loved that horse too much to use her that way and they needed her to get back to the devil’s gate when this was over.

The demons had less love for their own horses, which they likely stole, and the one not being pursued by Ellen hid behind his horse, continuing to fire at Cas and Ellen. From the tracks, Jo tried to scream something at them, but the demons had gagged her with a cloth. At least she was alive, which was all that mattered to Cas at the moment. That and getting them all out of there with their lives.

“Don’t be stupid, Castiel,” Alastair said in a voice too casual for his taste. “Give us the gun and we will let the girl go.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.” Cas said and fired at the demon. Alastair waved his hand and knocked Castiel to the side, ruining the shot and sending the bullet flying off its mark.

“I’m hurt, Castiel.”

The gun was thrown from Cas’s hand, but still remained within the devil’s trap. Ellen was in a knife-fight with one demon, too close now for his gun to be of any use to him. She slashed at his arms as he kept trying to dodge away. The demon behind the horse left his cover to run for the demon killing gun, but Cas got to it first. He had crawled over to it, snagged the gun and rolled onto his back, point the barrel at the demon, who skidded to a stop just in front of Cas.

“I don’t give a damn if my words hurt you, Alastair. In fact, I’ve got some words for your demons... Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus--” Jo’s strangled scream drew his attention away from the demon.

“I really wouldn’t try that if I were you.” Alastair said, crouching beside Jo, his hand wrapped around her neck.

Cas looked over to Ellen, who had caught her demon with an arm around his neck, knife about to be plunged into its chest when Jo had screamed.

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.” Ellen threatened.

“I don’t think you will.” Alastair shook his head. That’s when they all noticed the sound of the tracks rumbling and the steady, loud noise of a train chugging towards them. “You’re running out of options here. Give me the gun or I kill her. Try to fight us, and let the train kill her.”

There was a tense moment of silence between all of them, only disturbed by the noise of the train. As it came closer, the driver began blowing his horn, trying to make everyone move out of the way. Cas gritted his teeth and clenched his hand around the gun. He could kill this demon in a second and possibly shoot one more, but Alastair could kill Jo just as quick.

“Fine.” He put the hammer back on the demon killing gun and flipped it around in his hand, holding onto the barrel. Begrudgingly, he stood and walked it over to Alastair. “Let her go.”

Alastair released Jo and stood up. Cas considered the amount of time it would take to flip the gun over and shoot Alastair, but knew the demon would just fling him back again and either kill Jo or get a demon lackey to grab the gun and leave Jo to get crushed by the train. He was out of options now and very quickly running out of time, so he handed the gun over with a glare.

“Much obliged.” Alastair took the gun with a crooked grin. The other two demons started slowly backing away from them and towards the train, guns trained on Cas and Ellen. When the demons finally lowered their guns, the two hunters ran for Jo and untied her from the tracks as quickly as possible. The train was barreling down the track just a few feet away, whistle still blowing, when they freed Jo and all tumbled out of the way. It whooshed past as Ellen clung to Jo for dear life. Cas stood and watched the train go by, the two demons he could still see had clung to the back of one of the carts. Though he couldn’t see Alastair, he was sure the demon had done the same. It made for a quick getaway.

“Come on,” Cas shouted and began running alongside the train. It had slowed down when trying not to hit them all in the middle of the tracks, but was gaining speed again. Luckily, there were several cars attached, giving Jo and Ellen time to gather themselves, grab the shotgun and run for the train.

“Fucking demons!” Jo shouted from somewhere behind Cas as he jumped for a train car's back guard rails. It took two tries, but he finally caught on and pulled himself up onto the train, hooked an arm around one of the rails and leaned out, holding out his hand for Ellen and Jo as they came running. Jo grabbed on first and he hauled her up onto the train, then Ellen after her. They all stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

“You okay?” Cas asked Jo.

“Pissed to high hell but otherwise fine,” Jo huffed. “Let’s go kill those bastards.”

“Did that demon with the gun get on the train?” Ellen asked. “I know the other two did.”

“Alastair.” Castiel said and moved over to the other side of the train car to look out across the tracks disappearing in the distance. He saw the horses the demons had stolen and his own, but nothing else. “Hope so. Otherwise he’s gone.”

“Well, let’s get a move on!” Jo, not wasting any time, hauled open the door to the train and stalked through it. Ellen and Cas followed behind her, knowing she was out for revenge against those demons, whatever way she could get it. As they walked through the car, the folks inside edged away from the three dusty travelers. Castiel knew they must have looked strange, the two women dressed in men’s clothing and all three of them dirty, sweaty and maybe a little bloody, with scornful frowns set on their faces.

They passed through the train car and into the next, paying little heed to the passengers and hoping not to come across a ticket taker before they found the demons, who were surely causing a ruckus on whatever car they ended up on. After three cars, they happened upon a group of passengers who looked like they had already been rattled once.

“Did two or three men come through here?” Castiel asked of one man seated near the back of the car when they came into it.

“Yes! Three of them, all with guns. Are they bandits? They didn’t try to rob us.”

“They are. Stay here. We’re taking care of it.”

“What about your women?” The man asked, only to shrink back when both Ellen and Jo turned their glares on him.

“They don’t belong to anyone and they can hold their own.” He turned away from the man and kept them going through the car, taking the lead now. “Looks like Alastair is on the train somewhere.”

“Do you think the trap will affect them if they’re on the tracks?” Ellen asked and Cas hummed curiously.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

They went through another two cars of passengers before coming upon one where the people seemed shocked to see them. In the last few cars the passengers were already disturbed by the demons trudging through, but these passengers were more like those in the first car. The motley group stopped half way through the car when they heard a banging from above.

“The roof?” Ellen said, eyes wide.

“This ride is awful!” A woman said in a snooty voice to the other lady beside her. “Banging around on the roof like something has come loose, roughians wandering through the car. I’m going to complain.”

Jo gave her a look of distaste, then turned her attention back to Cas and her mother.

“Seems like.” Cas nodded and moved them back to the rear of the car. “You two get holy water out, your knife, whatever you have to fight with. I’ll take the shotgun. You climb up this side, I’ll go up the other side, we’ll trap them in the middle. Let me get up first and distract them.”

“Got it.” Ellen handed over the shotgun to Cas and several of the salt rounds for reloading. She pulled the demon knife from her belt and one of the cantines of holy water. She handed the latter over to Jo, who looked like she wanted the knife more, but wasn’t about to argue with her mother. Cas hurried to the other side of the car and stepped out, keeping his eyes to the roof. Safe for now, he began climbing slowly up the front of the car. The demons were towards the middle, not looking like they were planning on leaving this car. He stayed low, out of sight watching between the demons and the other end of the car for Ellen.

She popped her head up a minute or so later and he held up a hand to motion for her to wait. The demons were focused on each other, saying something Cas couldn’t hear over the rush of the wind and the rumble of the train. Alastair was holding Colt’s gun and was gesturing at the other two demons. Cas slowly climbed up and crouched on the top of the train, worried about his balance and about being caught. He aimed the shotgun at Alastair and shot him.

Alastair screamed out in pain and turned on Castiel instantly. Without wasting time, Castiel shot him again in the chest, knocking the demon down. At the same time, Ellen climbed up onto the car and ran for one of the demon lackeys, stabbing him in the back with the demon blade. A flash of light emitted around the stab wound and then the demon fell to his knees and tumbled to the side. As he did, Ellen went after him so she could get the knife out of his back before he fell off the train. Jo was climbing onto the train roof but didn’t get up in time before the second lackey went for Ellen.

Castiel was rapidly trying to reload the shotgun with another two salt rounds, but the moving train made it difficult to do while trying not to get thrown off. Alastair recovered from the hits and had gotten back to his feet by the time Cas got one round in and was approaching as he put the second in.

“You just won’t die, will you?” Alastair asked, holding up a hand to blast Cas with his power, only it didn’t work. He looked down at his hand, then back at Cas.

“I wonder the same thing about you everyday,” Cas sneered and flipped the shotgun closed, cocked it, and pulled back the hammer. As he fired, the train jostled over the track and made everyone lose their footing.

The demon who had lunged for Ellen was caught by Jo right as the train shook and she splashed him with holy water. The demon screeched and whirled around on her. He got tossed, flailing, off the side of the train. Ellen reached out and grabbed onto Jo, keeping her safe on the roof. That left Alastair alone on the roof with Jo, Ellen and Cas.

“I think you best give that gun back,” Ellen said, making her way slowly towards Alastair, giving her knife a little twirl for flair. They had him surrounded now.

Alastair clenched his fist, as if wishing for his powers to blast them all away. Castiel couldn’t help a little grin at seeing him feeling powerless. Hoisting the gun, he aimed it at Alastair’s chest.

“You’re out of options now, hand it over,” Cas said.

“I think I’d rather flee.” Alastair turned and tried to jump off the side of the train. Powerless that he may be, he was still a demon and could survive the fall. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for Cas, the demon trap had been effective enough that he couldn’t physically leave it.

The demon hit an invisible wall and was tossed back onto the train. Thrown, and with nothing to grab onto, Alastair slid off the side of the train. The revolver clattered across roof of the train car and Cas quickly grabbed it before it met the same fate as Alastair. Sitting on the roof, Cas looked up at Ellen, half shocked.

“We got the gun, we got rid of the demon. Let’s get that gate closed!” Ellen sheathed her knife and glanced between the two of them.

“Just one thing first, mama. We gotta get off this damned train.”

“And find a way to get back home.” Cas added. He got up and made his way to the front of the train so he could climb back down. Ellen and Jo followed behind him and they all sagged against the wall of the train, finally safe for the moment. Cas closed his eyes. “Our father who art in heaven...”

“What are you doing?” Jo asked, surprised by this sudden prayer from Cas.

Opening one eye, he answered her, “Praying.” Closing his eyes again, he continued. “If you can maybe spare an angel by the name of Dean, we could probably use his help.”

Jo stared at him, glanced around them, then back, “Okay... and now?”

“We wait? Either he shows up or we stop somewhere and get off.” Cas shrugged.

Ellen sighed and looked out at the ground rushing past them. “I don’t fancy jumping, but every moment we spend on this train is more time Alastair has to get to that gate before us.”

“Not to mention, we don’t even know where this train is going, it could be taking us farther from home.” Jo added.

“This angel of yours,” Ellen turned to Cas. “Can he find us if we’re on the move?”

“I have no idea. But if we’re going to be moving either way, I’d rather be moving in the right direction.”

“I say we jump,” Jo shrugged.

“You know how dangerous jumping out of a train can be?”

“Mama, we can’t just throw time away because you’re worried about me.” Jo rolled her eyes.

“She’s right, Ellen. We have to give it a try.” Cas frowned.

Ellen gritted her teeth and crossed her arms. “Fine, but you go first, then you, Jo. Anything happens to her, you help her. I’ll go last.”

“Fine.” Cas nodded and moved to the edge of the train. He handed the shotgun over to Jo and holstered the revolver. “After I jump, toss the shotgun. Then you jump.”

“Yes, sir!”

Cas looked at what was coming up alongside the track and, deciding it was clear enough, he took a deep breath, sighed it out, then jumped. He tucked and rolled to break the fall, but he didn’t notice the huge rock in the ground until he landed on it. He cried out in pain and rolled to a stop. When Cas slowly lifted himself up, both his right arm and his ribs burned with pain. Breathing carefully, he stood and turned to the train and began running after it.

Every breath hurt but he didn’t have time to wallow in the pain; he had to make sure Jo made it alright. He saw the gun fly from the train and just let it hit the ground, watching for Jo. She jumped, tucked herself in and rolled, pushing herself up and getting to her feet when she slowed. Other than seeming winded from it, she looked perfectly intact.

“You good?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, you?”

“I’ll survive, come on.” They ran after the train and watched as Ellen jumped from the train. She landed as well as Jo. All three of them had some small scratches and would probably have a few bruises by the end of the day. They went back and collected the shotgun, which Jo carried as they started walking back in the direction of the devil’s gate.

“Could really use our horses now,” Jo sighed.

“Could use an angel about now,” Cas said quietly, favoring his right side but pressing on.

“You okay there, Cas?” Ever the mother, Ellen asked.

“I hit a rock. I’ll be fine.”

Jo quirked a smile at her mother, “And you were worried about me.”

“What we need to worry about is getting to that gate, forget the rest.” Cas cut off the conversation, not the least because he was having trouble breathing. It was becoming clear that he might have broken a rib or two. Assuming they found a couple horses to steal, he wondered if he would be able to ride anyway. On the bright side, a building of some sort could be seen in the distance, so they were close to civilization.

Ellen and Jo were striding on ahead of him and Cas noticed that he was falling back bit by bit. He tried to keep pace and just tough out the pain, but it wasn’t working as effectively as he had hoped it would. His right arm hung limply at his side, because bending or moving it hurt too much. Assuming they did find horses, assuming he could ride, assuming they did make it to the gate before Alastair, they might have a chance. Those were a lot of assumptions and at this rate, if Alastair did beat them there, he might not be able to put up much of a fight. He could shoot with his left hand, but not very accurately and a single hit to his right side would probably ground him.

Closing his eyes, Cas cleared his mind but kept his feet moving. He thought of Dean, which brought the memory of their brief and sloppy kiss to his mind. Pushing those thoughts aside, he tried to imagine Dean as he had last night, which had summoned Dean to him without so much as a spoken word. In his mind, he said the words,  _Dean, I’m sorry for my behavior last night, but we really need your help. I need your help. I need you._

A slight breeze and a strange fluttering sound made Cas open his eyes again, moments before he ran straight into Dean. The angel had appeared in the space between Cas and the Harvelles.

“Sorry I’m late.” Dean quirked a smile at him and Cas sighed in relief. The relief was a little short-lived as the sigh came with a hiss of pain. “You okay?”

“Not especially.” Cas grumbled. Jo and Ellen turned around at the sound of conversation and were both shocked by Dean’s sudden appearance.

Jo already had the gun pointed at Dean’s back. “Who the hell are you?”

Dean looked back over his shoulder at her, “It’s more heaven than hell. I’m Dean. The angel.”

She looked at Cas for confirmation and lowered the gun when he nodded. “Could have used you a little while ago.”

“Sorry, I had some stuff going on.” He turned back to Cas and tipped his head, eyes focused on Cas’s right side. “What happened?”

“Jumped out of a train. Hit a rock.” Cas shrugged his left shoulder.

“Regular Evel Knievel.” Dean laughed.

“Who?”

“Never mind. Let’s get you fixed up.” He took Cas’s arm carefully into his hands and held it gingerly as he healed Cas. There was a warm feeling that spread across his arm and the pain quickly faded away. “Anywhere else?”

Cas nodded, not trusting his voice at this particular moment. The last time he had been hurt, Dean just touched him once and everything was better. This time, it was almost as if Dean was taking the opportunity to touch him more. Cas couldn’t dare believe that right now. He tugged back his duster and showed Dean his right side, the motion causing him to suck in a breath.

Dean moved in a little closer and set one hand on Cas’s left hip, then touched his hand to Cas’s side, holding him. He brushed a thumb over Cas’s ribs and the warm, healing feeling spread out from Dean’s touch and Cas looked up at the angel’s face. There was something else, though, other than the healing that was going on, that made a fire in his belly. Something that urged him closer to Dean and remember their kiss and want to try again. If only...

If only they weren’t standing in the middle of nowhere, in a hurry to get somewhere, with Ellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo standing not three feet behind Dean. If only Ellen hadn’t cleared her throat right when Dean met his eyes and smiled in a way Cas could only consider flirtatious. Dean winked at him and Cas looked away, stepping back.

“Thank you.” He muttered, pulling his coat back into place over his torso.

“Where would you be without me?” Dean asked with a grin.

“Up shit creek, I presume.” Cas cleared his throat, checked the revolver at his hip and dusted himself off. Dean laughed at his response and patted him on the back and Cas kept his eyes to the ground.

“Is that what getting healed by an angel is like?” Jo asked, and Cas could tell from her voice that her eyebrow had raised up and she wore a smirk on her face. “Because I think I’ve got a cut or two I could do without.”

“For crying out loud,” Ellen groused. “Let’s not forget we’re in a bit of a hurry here. Kinda got someplace to be.”

“Yes.” Cas strengthened his resolve. “Dean, is there any way you can disappear us from here and make us appear by the Devil’s Gate?”

“Do  _what_?” Ellen jumped in and Cas waved her off, keeping his eyes on Dean.

“All three of you?” Dean took a breath, then nodded. “Yeah, I think I can swing that. Everyone just huddle up.” Dean held out his arms to them, one towards Cas and the other towards Ellen and Jo. “Grab on.”

Cas took a hold of Dean’s wrist, Ellen and Jo held him by the wrist and upper arm, respectively. Dean gave Cas a wink and suddenly the world around them was gone. Before any of them could blink, it was back and they were standing a few dozen feet away from the stone structure with Colt’s name written across the top. Two stone doors stood open, revealing an endlessly deep hole inside. Strange smoke rose from it and light flickered, like a fire was lit somewhere inside the hole.

In front of the gate, as Cas feared, over a dozen demons stood around, holding guns and knives, looking for a fight. Castiel searched their faces for Alastair.

“Looks like we beat Alastair here at least,” Cas muttered.

“Fat lot of good that did, though.” Jo was frowning at all the demons. “I don’t suppose you have some sort of ... angel blast power that can kill them all for us.”

“Not exactly. I can get a few for you, though, when we get closer.” Dean turned to Cas. “You got a plan?”

“Kill the demons, close the doors, lock them with this?” Cas pulled the demon killing gun from his holster and held it up.

“Well, that sounds foolproof.” Jo added her two cents. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“We all die along the way?” Ellen said, shrugging, as if it was casual.

“I’ve already done that once,” Cas said and looked down at the demons. “We should move fast, start shooting before they notice us. The demons I’ve seen so far have been pretty bad shots. Count on it, but don’t be stupid. There are some trees and rocks, move between them, don’t stay still long.”

There was a silence in response to his instructions and Cas turned to see both Ellen and Jo staring at him with brows raised and arms crossed.

“But you knew all of that...” Cas cleared his throat and looked at Dean, who mouthed the word ‘yikes’ at him. He thumbed in their direction. “The Harvelles own the gun shop in town.”

“I see.” Dean said to Cas, then looked at the girls. “I presume you know a thing or two about gunfights.”

“You could say that,” Ellen nodded.

“They just... Don’t usually come on hunts with me.” Cas said, trying to dig himself out of trouble with the ladies. “Are we ready?”

“Give me some of those salt rounds you got,” Jo said and they all quickly did a check of weaponry. Satisfied that they were locked and fully loaded, the four of them shared a quick “good luck” exchange and charged into battle.

Ellen and Jo paired off and flanked the group of demons on the left while Dean and Cas paired up and went right. They managed to get off the first shots, Jo covering Ellen with the shotgun as she got close enough to stab her first demon. Cas shot two demons straight away and Dean killed one just by setting a hand on its head and blasting a golden light through it. Four had fallen by the time they started firing back. Dean took hits for Castiel, and wasn’t even slowed down.

Bullets flew from every direction as demons fired at the hunters. Dean and Cas were able to push forward, but Jo had to duck behind a boulder, reloading the shotgun as quickly as she could. Ellen fought against a demon at close range, taking a few punches, one across the jaw and another to her gut before she managed to stab her attacker, taking down another demon. Just as she straightened, another demon fired at her from behind before Jo got the shotgun back up and hit him with a salt round.

Ellen cried out in pain and grabbed at her arm, where she got hit by the demon’s bullet. Jo’s shot distracted the demon from her mother long enough for Ellen to get to cover.

“You okay, mama?” Jo called out, fear touching her voice.

“I’m fine!” She called back from where she hid. Cas turned his aim on the demon that shot Ellen and got him in two shots. He was down to two bullets and there were still half a dozen demons to kill. Behind him Dean killed another demon that had been about to attack.

“Help Ellen, I’ve got these guys.” Cas said and ran for cover between the poorly aimed bullets. Dean looked like he was about to put up a fight, but Cas didn’t give him the chance. When safe behind the cover of a tree, Cas pulled what bullets he had left from his pocket. There were only four, which brought him back to fully loaded, but only gave him six shots before he was out.

Gritting his teeth, Cas peeked out at the small battlefield. He and Jo were both under fire, Dean got to Ellen and healed her arm, from the looks of it. Cas idly wondered if an angel could run out of whatever the angel equivalent to ammo was and hoped, if they could, that Dean’s angel ammo would at least last the end of the fight. When Cas looked out again, he spotted one of the demons firing in his direction had to reload his gun and Cas took that opportunity to make a run at them.

Aiming for the distracted demon, Cas shot, once, twice, dead. Another demon fired at him and narrowly missed, but after a shot from Cas’s gun, dead. Three bullets and two demons down. From his left, Jo shot another demon and set it staggering. There was almost a clear path to the doors, where the pit of hell sent shivers up his spine. This was the closest he had come to that place since he woke, alive again, just a week ago. It was within his grasp, the end of the mission, the completion of Samuel’s plan, if only he could reach the doors.

“CAS!” Dean shouted from somewhere behind him, the intensity in his voice shook Cas. He turned to his right to see what had scared Dean, but it was the wrong direction. From his left, Alastair lunged at Cas, knocking him to the ground. They both hit the ground hard and Alastair lifted himself up with the intent to punch Cas in the face. Thinking quick, Cas lifted an arm to get between them and shoved Alastair. They rolled to the side, towards the gate and Cas wound up on top. He pointed the gun straight at Alastair’s heart, determined to finally kill the demon, but Alastair was just as fast. The demon grabbed him by the wrist with both hands and pushed the gun out of the way. His finger already on the trigger, Cas fired and wasted another bullet. Down to two.

Alastair released one hand from Cas’s wrist and punched him in the side, winding Castiel and knocking him off. They were less than a foot away from the gate now and all Castiel wanted to do was shove that demon back into hell. He stopped paying attention to anything going on around them when Alastair stood over him. Acting more hurt than he was, Cas groveled back towards the gate to bait Alastair and it worked.

“Looks like I get to kill you again, after all.” Alastair said, leaning down and gloating over Cas.

“Like Hell you are.” Cas sneered, dropped the revolver and sprang up, grabbing Alastair by the front of his shirt and shoving him through the doors and down into the pit. Shocked and flailing, Alastair grabbed onto Cas’s arm and for a sickening moment, they both fell.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Alastair was supposed to go down, Cas was supposed to win. It was his destiny to close the Devil’s Gate. That’s why Dean brought him back to life. And as Castiel fell all he could think was how blissfully nice it felt when Dean healed him and how unimaginably horrific hell was. He didn’t want to go back, he was supposed to go to Heaven. He wasn’t supposed to die yet. He wasn’t supposed to go back to Hell.

Just as all of Cas’s worst fears were becoming a reality, he felt two strong hands wrapping around his other arm and pulling him back. Dean yanked Cas up out of the hole just as he had pulled him out of hell the first time. Alastair kept clinging to his arm, trying to use Dean’s rescue to save himself. But Dean wouldn’t have it.

Holding Cas securely, he kicked Alastair back down with a gravely, “Go to Hell.”

The two of them stumbled back away from the hole and it was only then that Castiel realized the way he was clinging to Dean. His fingers were clenched into the fabric of his fine vest and clean, white shirt, his knuckles almost the same shade. His body was pressed up against Dean’s as well, in a way that made Cas not want to move away and Dean’s arm was still pressed protectively around him. Being protected wasn’t something Cas would have thought he desired, having spent most of his life priding himself on being able to take care of himself. There was something to it, though, and feeling genuinely safe in the face of what was now his biggest fear made Cas appreciate Dean in a whole new way.

Then the world came crashing back to him and Cas jumped, turning around to look for the other demons who had still been a threat when Alastair attacked. What he found instead were the dead bodies of all the demons strewn across the ground between where Dean had been and where they were now. Dean caught Cas’s look and gave an amused, lopsided grin.

“Yeah, took care of those for you. Now how about we close this door and be done with it?”

“I think that’s a good idea...” Cas said absently and nodded. He picked up the gun and shut the doors. They met in the middle with an ornate circular locking mechanism in the shape of a devil’s trap. A hole in the middle of it was the perfect size for the barrel of Colt’s revolver and a notch that matched the sight-line on the tip. Cas pushed the gun in until it clicked to a stop, took a deep breath and turned it. When the gun was upright, the inner and outer rings of the circles began spinning in opposite directions. A whirring noise accompanied mechanical clicks and then it all stopped.

The four of them stared at it a moment until Jo broke the silence. “So is that it?”

“I think so...” Cas said and pulled the gun free. He backed away from it and lowered the revolver, then took a deep breath. It felt like a weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. Cas turned to the Harvelles.

“No more demons are gonna come busting up our lives now, huh?” Ellen said, looking simultaneously tired and relieved. “I think that calls for a drink.”

Cas laughed quietly and shook his head. “I think I had enough to drink last night.”

“Well, I didn’t!” Jo said, indignantly.

“You’re too young.” Ellen snapped.

“Uh, I got kidnapped by demons and tied to a railroad track. Which, by the way, demons are real dumb. I mean, really? A railroad track?” Jo and Ellen wandered away, continuing their banter. Cas watched them go but couldn’t make himself follow after them. Dean chuckled beside him.

“I’d make a comment about Boris and Natasha, but you wouldn’t understand that reference...”

“You seem to know of a lot of people I’ve never heard of.” Cas turned to look at him.

“It’s this thing called television. Won’t be invented for a while, but it’ll be pretty great once it is. Sometimes I sneak into the future to catch a movie here and there.”

“That seems like an irresponsible use of your time, when you could be using it saving us humans,” Cas glared at him, but there was no true malice in his words.

“Yeah, that was before all Hell started breaking loose upstairs and down here. Now your work is done, we can find a new way to waste time.” Dean smirked in a way that made Cas think he was up to no good. He knew that look from Gabriel.

“How do you intend to do that?”

“Picking up where we left off now that you’re sober.” Dean said easily and hooked an arm around Castiel’s waist. He hauled Cas in and planted a hard kiss to his lips that felt even better now than it had before. Cas lifted a hand to hold the back of Dean’s neck and tipped his head as he kissed back. His heart beat hard in his chest and he felt more alive now than he had all week. Dean’s lips were soft, his body was solid, his hands were firm and his mouth was warm. Everything about this felt so right that it washed away any doubts that might try to linger on, clinging at the edges of his mind.

When Dean pulled away, slowly this time, at a natural end rather than an abrupt cut-off, Cas found himself a little breathless. His lips were parted and he slowly lifted his eyelids to stare into Dean’s face. He was handsome, dashing, some women might say. And Cas could swear his eyes sparkled a little as he smiled, a kind hearted, open smile with just a touch of playful attitude.

“That’s a good way to waste time,” Cas agreed and Dean laughed. Cas smiled and Dean kissed him again.


	7. Epilogue

When Dean and Cas managed to tear themselves away from one another for long enough to leave the wreckage of their battle, they once again had to deal with life. Cas gave Colt’s gun to Dean to hide somewhere inside the demon trap, so that no human would ever know where it was and no demon with any power could get to it. That would ensure the safety of the Demon’s Gate for many years to come. On his way back, Dean did Castiel the favor of bringing Horse home.

Cas insisted she was smart enough to make it back on her own, but he was quietly very grateful for her return. When the day came to a close, Castiel’s heart began to clench in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. The thought of Dean leaving was crushing.

“Your work here is done... Will you return to Heaven?” Cas asked, from the safety and privacy of his home. They stood facing one another and Cas drank in the sight of the Angel, in case it was the last time he would see him.

Dean shrugged casually, not affected by the situation. “Demons may be powerless anywhere inside the trap, but you still have ghosts and monsters to deal with. Think I heard tell of a Phoenix not too far from here.”

Cas raised his brow. “What does that have to do with you?”

“Me? Not so much. You, however? I figure you’re a hunter and always going to be one. Long as you’re hunting, you can always pray for me.”

“And if I’m not hunting and just... want to waste some time?”

A slow smile spread across Dean’s face. “Well, long as things are calm in Heaven, I’m all for wasting time.”

Cas grinned and reached up a hand to slide around the back of Dean’s neck. He pulled the angel forward and this time, he started the kiss, murmuring against his lips, “Good.”

 

Dean stayed with Cas through all his human years. Always came when he called, eventually. And always glad to waste some time with him.

 

* * *

**_Somewhere in Colorado, 2006_ **

“Back in 1835, when Halley's Comet was overhead, same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter. A man like us, only on horseback. Story goes, this hunter used the gun for some holy mission and then the gun disappeared... They say... they say this gun can kill anything.” Gabriel Novak said to his brother. “Our great, great, great, great uncle... Castiel, the one you’re named after. He was that hunter.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “We need that gun.”

 “I say we go find it.” Gabriel grinned.


End file.
